


SCBI: The Series

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Series: Seventh Slayer 'Verse [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-04
Updated: 2003-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-21 00:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The continuation of Isabelle's Seventh Slayer story. Beta Team recovers from the aftermath of the war with the Watchers Council just as the return of an old foe and the web of danger and deception around a remorseless new one lead them into battle once more. Abandoned WIP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_Smash!_

Girath crashed into the wall with all his strength, and the thin plywood gave way beneath the rough armored plates of his shoulders. Stumbling through the splinters, he fell into the opening. For a moment, he just lay there, exhausted and bleeding.

Then, the inevitable sound of invisible footsteps echoed across the parking lot pavement.

With hidden reserves of strength even he didn’t know he possessed, Girath crawled the rest of the way into the odd structure. He paid no heed to the strange, soft-skinned creatures that gaped at him in surprise, although his ears reflexively cringed at their high-pitched squeaks.

Limping on his now-wounded leg – he must have caught it on a jagged edge when he came through the wall – he shoved his way through the crowd, grateful that they parted before him in respect for his superior size.

The light seemed hopelessly dim to his dark eyes, and the chill of this world once more settled into his scales. Nevertheless, he plunged ever onward in his desperate attempt to escape.

The footsteps behind him had slowed down now. They knew he was wounded, so there was no need to keep up the full chase. Eventually he would tire out, and…

Girath’s eyes squeezed shut for a second, pulling on his unshakeable desire to survive. He couldn’t let it end, not like this, not when…

He stumbled into a staircase, and his weary feet skittered out from beneath him. Every step seemed to jar right into his spine as he fell and fell and fell. A rib snapped, a wrist. The wound in his leg was bleeding again, leaving a trail of viscous, black liquid behind him. Finally, with an ungraceful crash, he landed at the bottom.

For a moment, he was too dazed to register anything. And then his sharp ears picked up the slow, relentless approach of those footsteps. Like the endless tide they approached, slowly withering him away further and further, until finally he broke into nothing…

He felt his ankle snap beneath him, but still he ran.

Now, beneath the gray, armored plates, razor-sharp claws, and massive horns, Girath was actually more of a thinking sort of demon. His kind had many faults, but a lack of intelligence didn’t happen to be one of them. So, despite the blinding pain, Girath was very much aware of the fact that he was in no shape to escape his pursuers on his own. And capture was not an option. That left…

Squinting against the horribly dim light in this world, Girath scanned for something – _anything_ – that could possibly help him. The creatures of this dimension seemed useless, though. Obviously a prey species of some sort. Intelligent and with good survival instinct, it seemed, but all in all too fragile for a real battle.

And, yet, when he looked at their strange, lean forms… Something just seemed oddly familiar about them. It was impossible to tell in the darkness these creatures seemed to endure, however. And he had much more important things to worry about.

A clawed fist caught hold of a corner as he pulled himself around it. The plaster crumbled in his grasp, but he didn’t even notice. His focus was entirely on a new sensation that was creeping up into his consciousness. Something he had barely dared hope for. Power.

Drawn to it like a moth to a flame, Girath half-walked, half-fell across the room, seeking the four bright presences that stood out in this land of darkness.

If he squinted his eyes very hard, he could make them out among the crowd now. The four of them all had an exceptionally slim appearance – the smaller sex of their species, he guessed. However, despite their shockingly diminutive size, they were obviously the most powerful beings present.

All four had that odd, tissue-thin hide that seemed so characteristic of this dimension. The one in the center seemed darker than the others, her hair black and skin a deep tan. To her right stood the tallest of the four, although even she barely passed his waist. A dark fiery color seemed to light up her hair. Flanking them were two paler creatures – one short with hair the color of Velik sand and one waif-thin and so light that he could almost see through her. His eyes were almost relieved to come across another being that radiated; the dismal lighting made it almost impossible to focus on anything else.

The four all wore wide-eyed expressions that he assumed were surprise. However, as he continued to stumble towards them, the darker ones eyes narrowed, and he would have sworn the pupils changed shape before his very eyes, transforming from perfect circles to thin, vertical slits.

Keeping his eyes upon this one who he assumed was the leader, he finally collapsed at their feet, the fight draining from his weary body. Behind him, the persistent footsteps moved closer.

“Help me!” he gasped out in Standard Demonic before his world faded to black…


	2. Chapter 2

“What do you think?” Isabelle inquired, frowning at the life-altering choice before her. “The red or the black?”

“Black,” Monica answered, arms crossed over her chest in a serious manner as she carefully considered her friend’s choices. “With the highlights, the red’s just a bit too much.”

Isabelle touched the gold-red tips of her hair and then fingered the silken red fabric of the dress lovingly. “I can pull off red,” she insisted. “I do it all the time.”

“Maybe you _did_ ,” Monica pointed out, “but after suffering through a New York winter, there’s no way your tan can make up for that color.”

Isabelle sighed. “What do you guys think?” she turned to their other two companions.

“It’s nice,” Lily provided helpfully, even though she really didn’t care one way or another. Obsessive clothes shopping just wasn’t her thing. Especially since her feet hurt and her arms were weighed down with all Monica’s bags and…

Isabelle bit her lower lip tentatively. She held up the black dress against herself once more. “If it had the same neckline as the red one…” she began.

“The square-cut looks good on you, though,” Monica assured her. “Plus, black’s always fashionable in the demon world.”

Isabelle grinned at that. “I vote that we relocate to Spain,” she suggested. “Get away from this bloody awful weather.”

“For sunny beaches, nothing beats Rio,” Monica countered. “A nice little vista along the ocean, one of those drinks with the parasols, warm sun beating down on my skin…”

 _“While your highly flammable boyfriend isn’t able to rub the suntan lotion in,”_ a mental voice chimed in. Siobhan looked up at Monica with an impish grin. Her usual sign-language had been forgone, given that she didn’t really have any hands left with all the bags she was holding. Lily had been kind enough to expend the effort to create a telepathic link that allowed her to communicate with the rest of the group efficiently, however.

Monica rolled her eyes. “There’s a dark motel room for him to stay in during the day, and we get to take moonlit strolls along the beach at night,” she countered. “And aren’t you supposed to be finding a dress that will turn Jeren’s antennae violet?” she demanded.

The half-sidhe’s snow-white cheeks flushed crimson. _“He is not even out of the hospital a week—”_ she began.

“And you haven’t made your move _yet_?” Isabelle shook her head in disgust.

“Yeah, because _someone_ sure isn’t beating around the bush with a certain Vengeance Demon,” Lily stepped in to Siobhan’s defense.

Isabelle fidgeted slightly, consciously forcing herself not to blush. “Alex and I happen to be—”

“You say ‘friends’, and I’ll smack you,” Monica commented off-handedly, ducking over two aisles and snatching up a pleated tan skirt. She eyed it speculatively.

“And it took _who_ exactly four months before she even confessed that she had a boyfriend?” Lily shot back.

Monica gave her a rueful smile and fingered the twin puncture points on her throat affectionately. A pair of suspiciously feline marks were exactly on the same place of the sexy vampire she’d left back at the Old Library. She suddenly had the overwhelming urge to get this shopping trip over with and return home. The skirt promptly went back onto the shelf in response.

“You guys are done here?” she inquired.

“Just let me get this,” Isabelle insisted, folding the red dress over her arm.

Monica gave her a quizzical look.

“Unlike _some_ people, I’m attracted to men that have no difficulty rubbing suntan lotion into my back,” Isabelle countered with an irrepressible grin.

 _“Yes, because you certainly didn’t throw yourself at Spike or Nicky,”_ Siobhan couldn’t help but tease.

OK, so the grin wasn’t quite so irrepressible. “Well, if you’re going to tell the truth…” Isabelle sulked.

Monica laughed. “Let’s get out of here,” she shooed Isabelle over to the sales counter. “I want to get back home and—”

“If you gloat one more time about the fact that you’re getting some when we’re not…” Isabelle threatened, eyes narrowed.

 _“Cruel and unusual punishment,”_ Siobhan agreed with a toss of her long white hair.

“It’s not my fault you guys are so hopeless,” Monica countered. She approached the counter and watched, amused, as Isabelle practically assaulted one of the saleswomen and dragged her over to the cash register. “What’s it going to take for you to finally make a move?”

“Someone to make a move _on_.”

 _“Some sign of reciprocity.”_

“Him to stop being an ass long enough for me to actually kiss him.”

“Well, I can’t say I didn’t ask,” Monica admitted.

 _“Or you could, but you’d be lying,”_ Siobhan joked.

Monica rolled her eyes. It was clear that the forces had united against her right now, and she had no hope of victory. “I can believe you haven’t even kissed him yet,” she turned her attention back to where Isabelle was paying for her purchases.

“It’s…weird,” Isabelle defended herself. “It has that whole dating a convict feel to it, only with a much nicer cell for the conjugal visits.”

“Fletcher sure is keeping a close eye on Alex,” Lily agreed thoughtfully.

 _“I would think you would approve,”_ Siobhan’s thoughts cut in. _“After what happened to your mothers…”_

“Mad, yes,” Lily agreed, “but… He babysat me when I was a kid, and then when I grew up he was my friend, and he’s been my commander for six years… You can’t just suddenly hate someone after all that.”

“ _You_ can’t,” Isabelle pointed out. “There are others who might not be so charitable.”

Monica frowned. “He hasn’t been getting any trouble, has he?” she demanded. “Because Fletcher—”

“No one does anything,” Isabelle assured her, “but you can just tell that they think… Well, let’s just say that he’s not big with the visitors,” she concluded.

 _“Betrayal is hard to forgive,”_ Siobhan pointed out. _“Especially to those who lost someone close…”_

“You don’t seem to have any problem,” Isabelle pointed out softly, biting her lip at thought of all the members of Gamma Team that had been lost.

A sad light took over Siobhan’s eyes. _“I do not blame Alex for the Watchers’ crimes,”_ she finally declared. _“If he had aided in the explosion that took…”_ She trailed off and turned away, long pleats of hair obscuring her face and the emotion within.

“Do you want to sit down, sweetie?” Lily asked in a soft voice, resting a gentle hand on the banshee’s shoulder.

Strength seemed to flow into her through Lily’s hand. Isabelle and Monica weren’t at all sure it wasn’t some form of magic.

Siobhan’s shoulders straightened in response, and when she turned back to them, her face was composed. _“I think I would like to go home,”_ she decided.

Monica nodded. “You done?” she asked of Isabelle.

Isabelle snatched up yet another bulky bag. “Let’s book,” she agreed.

 _“I feel the desire to turn incorporeal,”_ Siobhan joked slightly, trying to return things to the lighter mood of before, _“simply to escape all these parcels.”_

Lily nodded in sympathetic agreement. “Just how many shoes do you two need?” she asked the two darker women.

Monica and Isabelle blinked in perfect surprised unison. “You can never have too many shoes!” they exclaimed simultaneously.

They exchanged a skeptical look.

“Jinx!” Isabelle abruptly announced in delight.

“Jinx?” Monica repeated incredulously. “Immature much?”

“You talked!” Isabelle appointed accusingly. “That means I get to hit you.”

“Not with Slayer strength, you don’t,” Monica countered, taking a few nervous steps away from Isabelle.

“You should’ve thought of that before you spoke, then,” Isabelle retorted, a wicked grin on her face.

Siobhan folded over in a silent peel of laughter at the antics of her two friends, and Lily joined in with a giggle and a roll of her eyes. Their new fearless leader and the undefeatable Slayer seemed to be currently involved in a little shove-fest, while both desperately tried to keep hold of all the shopping bags they were carrying. It was one situation where both Slayer and feline agility were failing spectacularly. Hence, the extreme hilarity.

All in all, it was a happy, normal, day-to-day moment. Which is, of course, why a terrified scream had to interrupt them.

The four stared in a mixture of shock and amazement as a gigantic demon stumbled around the corner, accidentally destroying everything that came into contact with its powerful claws. It was over ten feet tall, slate gray with reptilian skin, the huge armored plates over its shoulders and upper back making it look like an ankylosaurus…or a really nasty tortoise.

Its attention became riveted on them only a second later, and it half-crawled over to them with fierce determination, its ebony eyes locked on Siobhan the entire time.

Wary and still a bit surprised at the demon’s spectacular entrance, Monica increased her awareness of her surroundings, eyes narrowing to the gold-rimmed slits of a jaguar. One casual smell of the processed mall air was all it took to verify that, no, this demon didn’t seem to be attacking them. This fact actually seemed more obvious at second glance; the demon was bleeding, wounded pretty badly…

The four women watched, still half in fighting pose, as the demon collapsed onto the ground before them.

“Help me!” it gasped out in Standard Demonic before it fainted.

Isabelle blinked. “Well, _there’s_ something you don’t see every day,” she quipped.

* * *

 _Light, dark, silence, pounding, blood, screams…more screams, more blood, more…_

 _Prey. Fallen prey._

 _Need now, rip, kill, gut, slash, destroy…_

And, at that moment, they alighted upon Girath’s fallen form, shredding and clawing.

* * *

“Holy mother of—!” Monica exclaimed in horror as the demon’s flesh sliced before their very eyes, torn by an invisible force.

“Unless this is some sort of self-mutilation demon…” Isabelle began. She swung her leg out in a neat arc over the demon’s fallen body. In mid-air above him, her heel finally connected with what looked like nothing. There was a shriek of pain, a sound of bones snapping, and then the sound of a body collapsing several feet away, blown back by the force of the Slayer’s strength.

They made the realization as one. “Holy shit, they’re invisible!”

Just as these words burst from Monica’s lips, something tackled her back onto the ground. She struggled to grab hold of it, but her extended claws couldn’t find anything to grasp onto. A glancing blow struck what felt like an arm, but Monica didn’t have a chance to find out because a strong hand had caught hold of her throat now, squeezing tight. She grabbed hold of the invisible wrist and tried with all her preternatural strength to pull it free...

Lily’s hand had lit up with emerald witch-fire the instant Monica had been attacked. Her first magical blast had been aimed at the attacker that had pinned Monica down. However, a hard blow to the jaw sent her aim astray at the last minute, and stars danced behind her closed eyelids for a second.

She stumbled backwards as a string of light blows landed on her. Her opponent didn’t seem any stronger than your average human, but Lily didn’t exactly have the resilience to put up with a human’s blows for long.

“ _Repelle_!” she shouted out in command in the brief moment’s pause she was given after a hard blow to her gut.

Waves of force rippled from her outstretched hand, sending several distorted patterns in the force flying backwards.

Lily swore. There had been at least four of the things that she had hit, and now that her spell had faded, she couldn’t even see them again.

“ _Constitue claustra_!” The words slipped from her lips the instant before something crashed in the shimmering, green force-field she’d erected around herself. Several more invisible bodies crashed against the magical wall in vain while Lily centered herself once more. There just had to be something…

Siobhan phased out of corporeal form the instant the attack began. She could feel the solid form of one of their attackers run right through her, sending that old little tingle down her spine that always occurred when the non-corporeal and the corporeal intersected.

A second attacker dove at her with similar failed results. She faded her elbow back into existence just for the second needed to hit the thing in the back of the head right after it passed through her. She could hear it collapse beside her and turned her attention promptly back to the battle at hand.

Lily had cloistered herself off quite nicely and was now chanting in an ancient Celtic tongue. Isabelle’s blows were swinging wildly, but she had her eyes closed in concentration and seemed to be landing enough to keep her foes at bay. Monica appeared to be being strangled to death. It really wasn’t too hard for Siobhan to figure one where her help was needed.

She landed on the back of the thing that was attacking Monica and managed to rake her long nails across its cheek. She forced herself to repress the victory cry she wanted to let out when it released the other woman’s windpipe; in a crowded environment like this, her voice would undoubtedly knock out many innocents.

The thing that had attacked Monica hit Siobhan hard in the ribs, throwing her back off of it. She faded to her ethereal form in mid-air, floating to the ground as gracefully as an autumn leaf alighting on the water.

The thing swore.

It was all Monica needed to take perfect aim, and rake her claws right over her attacker’s face.

It screeched in pain, and visible drops of red blood appeared as if from nowhere. A swift kick to the head, and Monica had the thing unconscious and trapped beneath her.

“We need to come up with a better way to fight these things!” she announced, senses hyperaware and hoping to detect another before she got her ass kicked yet again.

“No argument here,” Isabelle agreed, regaining her balance in an ungraceful move as her leg missed its elusive target and swung through thin air. Her fist caught it on the back swing, though, and she had the time to recover her fighting stance.

 _“I’m working on it,”_ Lily made use of the mental link to communicate while she continued to chant within her shield barrier.

Isabelle took a blow to the ribs. Siobhan struck another of the invisible creatures she felt rushing at Monica. Two more distorted shapes crashed into Lily’s shield barrier.

“I summon ye!” Lily’s words turned to English as a swirl of white energy rose above them. It formed a crackling ball at the center of the mall ceiling. “Descend…er, chocolate fudge!”

“What?!” Monica and Isabelle squawked in unison.

Before they had a chance to process the very odd spell their friend had just concocted, the energy ball above exploded in a shower of liquid chocolaty goodness. It rained down upon them, covering everything – including the hitherto un-seeable assailants – in sweet-smelling fudge. Only Lily and Siobhan were spared, Lily being safe within her shield barrier and Siobhan wisely having phased out of existence again.

“I liked this shirt!” Isabelle exclaimed in horror at the hopelessly stained garment. Her eyes narrowed on the chocolate-outlined figures that surrounded her. “You are _so_ going down!” she informed them, feet swinging out in lightning-quick blows.

Two of the figures fell into unconsciousness at her strikes, and the rest hastily backed away.

“Death…bloody, gruesome death…” Isabelle hissed menacingly, eyes flashing in fury.

“Fall back!” Monica instructed her instead.

Isabelle visibly deflated and abandoned her now-cowering foes, returning to where Monica had her attacker still pinned to the ground. She looked about as pleased as Isabelle was that they were now covered in chocolate.

“Siobhan, check on the demon,” Monica instructed, gesturing to the rather unusual creature whose aid they had just come to.

“They’re getting away,” Lily pointed out, gesturing to where the other only-visible-through-chocolate human shapes were gathering up their unconscious and fleeing.

“Let them go,” Monica insisted. “If the chocolate dribbles off…”

“Right,” Isabelle sighed petulantly, “no picking fights…” She sounded so disappointed.

“Besides,” Monica added, “we’ve already got our hostage here.” She gestured down to the only remaining form of their attackers which she had still pounced upon.

 _“It is alive,”_ Siobhan gestured over to them for where she was checking upon the gray demon, her hands nibble and skilled in the speech of the mute. _“Very badly injured, however. It requires medical attention.”_

Monica nodded. “Lily, can you…?” she requested. “ _Someone_ seems to have drowned my communicator in chocolate.”

Lily grinned unashamedly. “Beta Team to New York headquarters,” she spoke into the small device while silently laughing at Monica and Isabelle’s sticky dilemma.

“Problem?” the gruff voice of the Fyarl in charge of central communications inquired.

“We need a medical and security team at these coordinates,” Lily began rattling off directions.

Isabelle’s feet squished uncomfortably in her boots. “She couldn’t think of anything besides chocolate?” she asked in despair.

Monica frowned at where all the parcels they’d dropped were equally covered in the goo. “There goes another month’s salary,” she agreed with a sigh.

 _“I thought it was brilliant,”_ Siobhan signed, blissful in her chocolate-free state, _“not to mention hilarious…”_

Monica and Isabelle glared at her in unison.

“…And, oh yeah,” Lily finished her report, “you might want to send in some towels as well.” She snickered at the spectacle her two friends made.

“That’s it!” Monica exclaimed in frustration. “Whatever this is about, it had _better_ be important…”


	3. Chapter 3

The late afternoon sunlight formed a series of rich mahogany stripes where it shone in through the Venetian blinds onto Fletcher Price’s desk. Fletcher studied the effect with calculated disinterest, tapping his pen on the edge of the desk as he decided how best to formulate his answer.

“We don’t know,” he finally responded.

Monica, fists leaning forward onto the surface of the desk and brassed off expression firmly in place, didn’t look the slightest bit satisfied with his answer. “What do you mean, you don’t know?” she demanded.

Fletcher raised an annoyed eyebrow in her direction. “Exactly what it sounds like,” he countered, rising from his seat and walking absentmindedly over to the large world globe that stood before the bookcase. “We have not found any way to communicate with your attacker, and the demon you rescued has yet to regain consciousness. He was quite badly injured.”

“Wait, go back,” Monica shook her head. “Haven’t found a way to communicate?”

Fletcher’s brow furrowed. “He refuses to say a word, and our witches have been unable to dispel his magical defenses. Whatever spell has been cast over his mind is quite powerful.”

Monica bit her lower lip and sat back down in one of the plush armchairs in front of Fletcher’s desk. “This doesn’t fit any profile?” she wondered. “It’s unusual enough that I would think it’d be in one of the files…”

“Apparently _too_ unusual for our files,” Fletcher countered. He studied the spinning globe beneath his fingertips intently as he spoke. “Invisible assassins are actually surprisingly rare – especially human ones.”

“Well, given their victim…” Monica ventured.

Fletcher frowned. “Indeed,” he agreed. “Tell me, have you informed Xeris of our newest guest?”

Monica sighed. “I figured I should probably talk to you first,” she admitted. Then scrunched up her nose in distaste. “And wash off all that chocolate.” She inspected an ebony lock of her hair, still wet from the shower, as if she feared there was some of the sugary concoction she had missed.

A small smile flitted across Fletcher’s features for an instant. “I appreciate it. Chocolate’s quite difficult to get out of leather,” he teased lightly, gesturing to the chair she sat in.

Monica cast an unamused smile in his direction. “So what _do_ I tell Xeris?” she demanded.

Fletcher removed the glasses from the bridge of his nose and began polishing the lenses with the handkerchief from his front pocket. “Would you be adverse to keeping this a secret from him?” he inquired.

Monica swallowed a bark of laughter when she noticed the black circles that surrounded Fletcher’s eyes right where his glasses had been. Apparently someone had thought to apply a magical layer of paint to the spectacles. She covered up her amusement with a cough. “Sorry, what was that?” she forced her attention back to the serious matter at hand.

He, thankfully, put the glasses back in place. “I would prefer it if this information were kept from Xeris,” he repeated.

Monica bit her lower lip. “For how long?” she asked nervously.

“Indefinitely, if necessary,” Fletcher provided.

“He’s gonna hear about it somewhere,” Monica pointed out. “This place isn’t exactly gossip-free. Everyone probably knows already.”

Fletcher cast a tisking little smile her way. “I am not completely inept,” he informed her. “I had our guest brought in through the back way and have allowed only two orderlies to see him. They are both under strict orders not to divulge his identity. I trust in Maddie’s discretion implicitly. I would have yours as well.”

“I’ll have to tell Lily, Isabelle, and Siobhan,” Monica frowned, “and I don’t like it.”

“It is a necessary precaution for our patient’s well-being,” Fletcher assured her.

“You really think…?” Monica began, disbelieving.

Fletcher shook his head. “I don’t know what would occur if our Veliks discovered we were treating a T’Liff…”

Monica gave him a resigned nod. “What’s our cover?”

“We’ll just say an unknown interdimensional species for the moment,” Fletcher determined.

“Is that all, then?” Monica asked, standing up hopefully.

“Actually…” Fletcher began.

Inwardly, Monica groaned. “What?” she dreaded to ask.

“Since it was your squad that found this case, I would like to assign it to you,” he informed her.

The inner groan increased. “I don’t even have a squad right now,” she fell back on her well-rehearsed excuses. “Unless you plan on springing Alex from prison. And Xeris just got off physical therapy yesterday. It’ll be two weeks before he’s ready for the field. At least.”

“I’ll just have to make some reassignments, then,” Fletcher decided, returning to his desk and tapping at the keys of the computer console there. “Siobhan’s effectively squadless at the moment, and she seems to have done quite well against your invisible attackers.”

Monica had to nod in agreement. She already knew Siohban worked well with the squad, and her talents would just be going to waste during the long wait for Gamma Team to be reformed.

“And we’ve just had a recent transfer from Kiev,” Fletcher went on, “a Pyotr Adrikovich.”

Monica blinked. “Does he speak English?” she asked skeptically.

Fletcher shot her a dirty look. “Of course. And he has highly-recommended offensive magical capabilities. He should be quite helpful in case of any further attack.” He dropped the personnel file on the desk before her.

Monica let out a resigned sigh. “Fine,” she caved in. “Do we have _any_ leads at all yet?”

“Not as such. I recommend you return to the mall and try to determine our T’Liff friend’s origins.”

Monica nodded before casting a suspicious look in his direction. “This is your revenge for the trick Isabelle and I pulled on you with the sneezing powder, isn’t it?” she demanded.

A wicked little smile curled the edges of Fletcher’s lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he responded in his usual clipped, British tones.

Monica sighed and got up to leave, snatching up the file of her new teammate and flipping it open.

“Oh, and Monica?”

“Yeah?” she froze in the doorway, anticipating yet another bout of revenge.

“If you see Willow, would you kindly inform her that the paint she placed on my glasses is not at all amusing, and if she doesn’t remove the curse immediately, I shall be forced to reassign her quarters to the storage shed?”

Monica shot him a dirty look. “Yeah, yeah,” she agreed before slamming the door behind her.

Fletcher merely removed the offending eyewear and grinned.

* * *

Humming the soft melody of ‘She Moves Through the Fair’ under her breath, Lily replaced the empty watering can beneath the bench that held her greenhouse and turned her attention to the residents on the dresser. She removed the bowl of magical crystals from beneath the bench as well as a small bag of sugar.

The black oily entities within the coffee can began to squirm eagerly in anticipation of their feeding.

“Hungry today, are we?” Lily asked.

She picked up one of the crystals from the bowl, rubbed it into the sugar until it was coated, and then held it over the can. A dark, oozing appendage shot out and snatched the crystal right from between her fingers. A little gulp, and the Opprimita vanished into the can, allowing its brothers and sisters to feed.

It was a ritual Lily had become quite accustomed to since she’d first gathered the magical beings. She got occasional looks of disbelief from passersby in the hallway outside her room, but the feeding didn’t seem remarkable to her at all anymore.

What was remarkable was the loud crash at the end of the hallway.

Lily and the Opprimita that had been feeding both jumped in surprise, and the sugarcoated crystal clattered to the floor. Lily quickly provided the hungry tar-slick with another and then dashed out in the hallway to see what the ruckus was about.

What she encountered was a giant chest, lumbering in her direction at an alarming rate.

“ _Consiste!_ ” she shouted out in alarm.

The trunk froze, and for the first time she noticed a pair of legs beneath it.

“Uh…can I move now?” a man’s voice asked.

Lily shook her head as the solution to the rather bizarre situation presented itself. The trunk was over eight feet long and had completely dwarfed the man to the point where she hadn’t even seen him.

“Sorry about that,” she said, waving the spell away.

His knees instantly began to buckle at the weight. “Not a problem,” he assured her, staggering onwards.

“Do you need any help?” Lily offered, pressing herself back against the wall as the massive trunk passed regally by.

“I doubt you can—” the man trapped beneath began.

“ _Volita_ ,” Lily raised her right hand before the trunk. Slowly it levitated into the air until it was hovering in the middle of the hallway.

“I stand corrected.” Wry amusement accompanied the tone as the man escaped from beneath the load.

Lily was instantly surprised by how slight he was. He couldn’t have been more than 5’5” and most, and he looked as scrawny as a twelve-year-old boy. How on earth he had managed to lift the trunk in the first place was a complete mystery to her.

“Not a bad trick,” he commented, prodding the trunk with one index finger and watching it slowly float down the hallway ahead of him. “You do any non-Latin casting?”

Lily shook her head, making sure not to break eye contact with the trunk. “I know some Greek and a bit of Sumerian, but…”

He nodded and nudged the trunk around the corner. “Standard magical training nowadays,” he agreed, then sighed. “Unfortunately.”

Lily blinked. He had a casual, disinterested manner about him that was somewhat off-putting. Like she was just someone he would pass by on the street without thought. Scraggly, straight brown hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes, and from what Lily could tell he hadn’t even seen her yet.

“I’m sorry,” she began hesitantly, “you are?”

He let out a weary sigh like this was the most burdensome question in the world. “Name’s Adrikovich. Pyotr. Just transferred in.”

Lily nodded slowly. “Lily Rosenberg-Doogan,” she provided. “I’m on Beta Team.”

“Fascinating,” he commented with a bored sigh. “Now if you’ll—” He froze in mid-sentence, and his eyes widened in alarm.

Lily turned as well and spotted the head of one of her Opprimitae peeking around the corner of the door to her room curiously. “It’s all right,” she began. “It’s just—”

A ball of molten flames appeared in his hand in an instant, and he threw it at the Opprimita without hesitation.

“No!” Lily screamed out in alarm, her own green witchfire shooting from her palm to intercept his blast mere inches from the Opprimita’s head.

The twin magical bursts collided, and a blinding white explosion shook the hallway, sending the Opprimita cowering back into Lily’s room. Lily and Pyotr both crashed to the floor at the power of the blast and then began coughing when a black sulphurous smoke filled the corridor.

“OK, mental note,” Lily said between hacks, trying to blow the foul-smelling smoke from her face with one hand, “mixing incompatible magics is a _bad_ idea.”

“What was your first clue?” Pyotr agreed, running a hand through his disheveled hair and noticing the black soot marks along the corridor wall. “Oops,” he said with a sly smile, not looking apologetic in the slightest.

A nervous Opprimita peeked out of Lily’s room to make sure she was all right. Lily caught Pyotr’s hand before they blew up the hallway again.

“Go back to your can,” she instructed the wary creature.

Viscous black head drooping with its admonishment, the Opprimita oozed back into her room.

Pyotr blinked in disbelief. “You keep those things as _pets_?!” he exclaimed in outraged disbelief, shuddering slightly at the thought.

“Uh…kinda…” Lily said hesitantly. “I sort of… _acquired_ them on a mission, and we all figured it would be better if I kept them under my control rather than let them fall into the hands of some enemy. They’re actually quite friendly once you get to know them.”

Pyotr was now looking at her as though she were deranged. “Just keep them away from me,” he insisted.

“They usually don’t even leave my room,” Lily assured him hastily.

“Whoa!” A third coughing voice entered the hallway. “You haven’t been trying to cook again, Lily, have you?”

Lily turned to see Isabelle coming up the stairs right behind SCBI’s general handyman, Simon. She shot a glare Isabelle’s way. “Very funny,” she retorted.

Simon whistled at the scorch marks on the walls. “Heard the explosion and figured I should come assess the damage,” he provided. He quickly walked down the hall and propped open a window. “I’ll need to get all this smoke out of the hallway first…”

Lily winced. “Sorry about this, Simon,” she pleaded. “It was an accident.”

He chuckled good-naturally. “I’m used to dealing with accidents,” he assured her. “At least it’s better than Fyarl mucus…”

Isabelle’s nose scrunched up in distaste. “And I’m here to bear important tidings from our fearless leader’s fearless leader.”

Lily checked to make sure Pyotr was all right, but he seemed to have already retreated to his room. “Fletcher?” she asked curiously. “Who did what to him now?”

Isabelle chuckled at that. “Willow cursed his glasses,” she provided. “But that’s not the important part.” A bright smile lit up her face.

Lily knew only too well what that meant. “We’re going to go kill things?” she guessed.

“Got it in one,” Isabelle agreed. “If you ever bothered to check your messages, you’d know that we’re headed out in an hour.”

Lily gave her a skeptical look. “What’re we doing?” she asked warily.

“Tracking down the invisible guys,” Isabelle provided casually. She watched Simon stomp down the stairs to get some cleaner for the walls before she leaned in close. “And we’re keeping completely mum about the T’Liff,” she whispered. “Fletcher says we can’t even tell Xeris.”

Lily groaned. “Why us?” she wondered.

“Because Monica pissed off Fletcher the more recently than any of the other squad leaders,” Isabelle provided. “Personally, I’d’ve rather gotten the Milwaukee job.”

“I’d’ve rather gotten _any_ job,” Lily complained. “What are we even supposed to do?”

Isabelle shrugged. “Wander around until we get attacked, I guess. Monica says that until we know better we’re assuming it’s some kind of cult. I’m assuming until I know better that they’re annoying, invisible assholes.”

Lily smiled at the Slayer’s brash manner and returned to her room to check up on the Opprimitae. They were peering out of the top of the Folgers can at her, and she promptly resumed feeding them. Isabelle followed her inside and plopped down on the bed.

“Got a newbee in the squad,” Isabelle added almost off-handedly.

“Oh?” Lily asked curiously. She found the Opprimita that had been singed and added an extra thick coating of sugar to its crystal to help it heal.

“Some Ukrainian guy. Name’s Pyotr.”

Lily groaned aloud.

Isabelle looked up at her in surprise. “What’d I say?”

“The same guy who blew up half the hallway,” Lily provided. “He’s…weird.”

“Is he cute?” Isabelle inquired, head tilted to one side hopefully.

“He’s about as tall as your waist,” Lily exaggerated.

Isabelle slumped visibly. “Ah well, I guess I’ll just have to stick with the hopelessness that is Alex,” she decided.

“Speaking of whom, why aren’t you with him right now?”

Isabelle made a face. “Monica’s ‘waking up’ Nicky. Why do you think we’ve got an extra hour before we have to go to work?”

Lily laughed.

* * *

A figure slipped silently through the darkness, eyes narrowed on its prey. The hapless victim remained blissfully asleep, snoring softly. Unknowingly, it turned its back to its silent stalker, leaving open a wide, vulnerable target.

Towering over its victim now, the hunter closed in. It stopped only for a second in its descent when an unintended creak sounded throughout the room.

The sleeping form stirred…

“Evenin’,” Nicolas mumbled with a small smile and a terrific yawn.

Monica pouted and flopped down fully onto the bed. “You were supposed to let me wake you,” she informed him grumpily.

“You did wake me,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but not the way I meant to,” she countered, nestling her head in the crook of his shoulder with a sigh. Absentmindedly, one hand traced the muscles of his bare chest.

Nicolas sniffed her hair fondly and then frowned. “Why do you smell like chocolate?” he inquired.

She groaned. “Bad day.”

“Smells good,” he countered.

“Lily magically dumped a pound of liquid fudge on my head,” she shot back. “That definitely counts as bad.”

“And Lily did this, why?” he asked curiously.

“So we could see the invisible humans.”

“Invisible humans.”

“That were attacking the ‘I’m not allowed to tell you what it was’ demon.”

Nicolas blinked very slowly. “Come again? Preferably after I’ve had some coffee.”

She laughed. “Just our latest assignment. I’ll brief you on the way.”

He groaned. “Now?”

“Actually,” she said with a sly smile, “I’ve given us an extra hour. Isabelle’s fled in terror, and Alex swore at me before putting a pillow over his head to drown out the noise.”

“Ah, alone at last,” Nicolas teased. He sniffed her hair. “But you washed all the chocolate off,” he said, disappointed. “Didn’t even give me a chance to lick it off.”

“You have a dirty mind,” Monica informed him, planting a quick kiss on his lips.

“Wouldn’t be much of a vampire if I didn’t, now would I?” he countered, rolling her over. “Now, how long did you say we had?”

“Just an hour.”

A sad sigh. “Ah well. It will have to do…”


	4. Chapter 4

“All right,” Monica instructed as the six members of the makeshift Beta Team alighted from the small hoverjet, “Nicolas is our tracker. Siobhan, you go with him in case there’s difficult terrain. Lily, I want you to do a magical scan of the area. See if our elusive friends left any clue that way. Pyotr?” She turned to the newest member of the squad. “How are your magical detection capabilities?”

Pyotr yawned in a bored manner. “Oh, I _suppose_ I can manage to muster up _something_ ,” he said disinterestedly.

Monica shook her head, but she really didn’t have time to deal with his attitude right now. “Get on it, then,” she ordered before turning to Isabelle. “And guess what?”

Isabelle groaned. “Do we have to?” she whined.

“Oh, c’mon,” Monica teased, leading the Slayer over in the direction of the police tape that surrounded the hole the T’Liff made in the mall wall, “the cops just _love_ you.”

Isabelle shot her a dark look and let out a weary sigh when she saw the two country troopers that were on the case.

The taller of the two glanced their way, saw the characteristic navy blue SCBI uniforms, and groaned. His younger, shorter partner’s eyes lit up when he saw that it was indeed Isabelle who was on the case.

“Helping out with the investigation?” he inquired eagerly, planting a (supposedly) helping hand in the small of Isabelle’s back as she passed. He instantly took up walking beside her.

Monica snickered.

“What’ve you got?” Isabelle said wearily, brushing the officer’s hands aside as she knelt down just inside the outline of the police tape and studied the tracks there.

“Well, there was this demon,” the overly-enthusiastic Officer Clark began eagerly, “and it crashed right through—”

“We were here,” Isabelle cut him off curtly. “What did you get from the witnesses afterwards? Especially on those things that attacked our team?”

Officer Clark’s brow furrowed. “You were the ones that helped the demon?” he asked curiously. He instantly pulled his notepad from his pocket and scowled at the descriptions he got. “There’s no way any of you look like Rambo but female…”

Monica chuckled. “That’s eyewitness testimony for you,” she agreed.

“I suppose you didn’t fly off into the sunset after you saved the day, either?” The sarcasm came from Officer Thompson, Clark’s older, wiser, far less irritating partner.

“Oh no,” Monica retorted with equal sarcasm, “that part’s entirely true.”

Officer Thompson’s expression didn’t change – he constantly looked slightly grumpy and exhausted – but he cast an approving nod over Monica’s way. “How about invisible things attacking you?” he inquired.

“That part’s true,” Monica agreed. “What do you have for us?”

Officer Thompson snorted. “Not much. They were invisible, after all.”

“Chocolate was strategically dumped on their heads,” Isabelle provided.

Something that almost could have been the barest hint of a smile quirked at the edges of Officer Thompson’s lips. “That part’s true then, too?” His question was said in his usual gruff manner, however.

“Lamentably,” Monica agreed with a roll of her eyes.

“Not much,” Thompson answered her earlier question. “Some reports of invisible people running out into the back woods,” he pointed with the end of his pen. “I guess that answers the question of how anyone saw ‘em.”

Monica looked up to see Nicolas and Siobhan already disappearing into the undergrowth where Officer Thompson had indicated. “Thanks,” she favored him with a smile.

“So, this case is yours, then?” he inquired hopefully. “’Cause we’ve got a lot of work back at the station that—”

“Price should have the paperwork for your office by tomorrow morning,” Monica provided. “In the meantime, we need to keep the area clear of civilians.”

“Not a problem,” Officer Clark offered with a wide grin, happy to finally find some topic of conversation that wasn’t completely beyond him. He gave Isabelle a little wink.

Inwardly, she cringed. Okay, so maybe flirting away with all the local law enforcement _hadn’t_ been such a good idea…

“CSI come through yet?” Monica inquired of Thompson.

He nodded. “Did the best they could. We’ll have the results to Price as soon as we’ve got ‘em.”

“Carry on, then,” Monica agreed, heading off towards the woods.

Officer Clark caught Isabelle before she could flee as well. “I’ll be busy here all evening,” he began, “but tomorrow’s my day off, and—”

“Flattered but taken,” Isabelle said pointedly.

“Aw, that’s what you always say!” Clark griped.

“Because it’s true,” Isabelle said extra slowly, hoping that he would catch on this time.

He just let out a wistful sigh and let her go. “See you ‘round.”

“Right.” Isabelle practically sprinted over to where Monica was snickering at her.

“You _sooo_ deserve that,” Monica informed her smugly.

“No one deserves that!” Isabelle protested, shuddering slightly. “The man has never even _heard_ of a clue…”

Monica merely shook her head and held aside a tree branch for Isabelle to proceed her into the woods. “Here’s hoping that Nicky and Siobhan have _something_ for us,” she sighed.

“I heard that!” a voice echoed through the trees. “And don’t call me ‘Nicky’!”

Monica and Isabelle giggled to themselves and soon found the rest of their team all gathered in a small clearing. Nicolas was sniffing around, a slightly puzzled expression on his face, while Lily sat in the direct center of the small clearing, eyes closed and the magical cadence of the words she was uttering crackling around her. Siobhan and Pyotr had both taken up positions on the side to watch.

“What are we doing?” Monica agreed curiously, watching Nicolas half wander off into the woods in one direction before he turned back.

Siobhan shot a pointed look in Pyotr’s direction.

He let out a weary sigh. “All right, if I _have_ to…” he complained before addressing Monica. “Trail vanishes or something here,” he said, waving one hand about in the air in a careless manner. “Fascinating, I’m sure…”

Monica rolled her eyes. Already plans were forming in her head as to how to get Pyotr transferred elsewhere. She didn’t think she’d ever met someone so inherently _annoying_ in all her life. And, given that she knew both Buffy and Spike, that was saying something.

“Details?” she signed to Siobhan.

Siobhan nodded and made several rude signs in Pyotr’s direction. Fortunately, he wasn’t paying attention anymore and seemed to be napping against a tall pine tree. _“Both the T’Liff’s and our attackers’ trails end here,”_ her hands provided in deft mute speech. _“Lily believes there may have been a portal of some sort here.”_

“Sounds like a good guess,” Isabelle agreed, watching Nicolas sniff around.

He gave her a shrug and joined the small group. “Either they vanished into thin air, or they’ve got the best technique for dispersing scents that I’ve ever seen,” he commented.

“Ha!” Lily’s exclamation cut the discussion short.

All attention turned to her, and even Pyotr opened one lazy eye to see what was happening.

“There’s a portal here, all right,” Lily announced, dispersing the spell around her.

“We have any clue where it goes?” Monica asked.

Lily’s expression turned hesitant. “It’s inter-dimensional,” she provided. “That makes it hard to identify the other terminus.”

“Can you open it?” Monica demanded.

Nicolas instantly pulled out his communicator in response, checking the power for interdimensional settings.

“We’re not actually going through that thing, are we?” The despairing cry came from Pyotr.

Monica turned a hardened expression in his direction. “That would be part of investigating the scene,” she informed him in a tight voice.

“Or it would, if I could get through,” Lily amended. She shut her eyes tight again before shaking her head with a resolved sigh and opening them once more. “Someone’s put a key on it,” she said apologetically. “My guess is that it’s some kind of password.”

“Really?” Pyotr’s voice sounded puzzled. “Now, _that’s_ new…” he said thoughtfully to himself.

“What was that?” Isabelle cast a curious look his way.

He froze in mid-speech, looking for all the world like he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Newer magical casting,” he hastily explained.

Isabelle didn’t look convinced, but turned back to where Lily had turned to her own magical abilities once more.

“My moms will kill me if I don’t try this at least once,” she provided, focusing on the opening of the portal before trying a password. “Open sesame!”

Nothing happened.

“Well, better to feel slightly dumb now than truly moronic later,” Lily got up with a sigh.

Pyotr gave her a skeptical look. “Has that _ever_ actually worked?” he demanded.

Lily chuckled. “My moms once spent two weeks cracking the password of a portal into Karenis. Finally found out it was ‘open sesame’ and have never lived it down.”

Pyotr chuckled slightly at that before letting out a terrific yawn. “Are we done now?” he demanded, a bit of a whine in his voice.

Monica bit her tongue. “We’ll have to call in the witches,” she conceded. “Too bad Dawn’s out with the flu…” She turned to leave.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance whatsoever of dropping this case off on Delta Team?” Nicolas inquired, taking his place beside her.

Monica let out a weary sigh. “Nope. Fletcher wants us to suffer through a dud for once…” she began.

And then she let out a cry as a hard blow struck her straight across the jaw.

“Monica?” Nicolas blinked in surprise, only to sense another strike coming his way. He dropped to the ground and rolled to the side with lightning-quick speed, nostrils flaring as he tried to get a solid trace on one of the attackers.

“I’m guessing invisible guys again,” Isabelle pointed out the obvious, shutting her own eyelids and fending off the first kick.

“Everyone to me!” Lily instructed, yanking on Pyotr’s arm from where he was just standing there, blinking at the fight around him.

Monica groaned and sat up to be swept up in Nicolas’ arms. Siobhan and Isabelle had already closed in around Lily and were holding back all attacks from the time being. Before Siobhan could phase, however, a solid kick landed squarely on her jaw, knocking her right out. Isabelle caught her on the fall and braced the _sidhe_ against her as she continued to fight.

“Hurry!” Lily demanded through tight lips from where she was casting another spell.

Nicolas dove with Monica right between the heavy breathing sounds of two of the invisible men. They both tumbled to the ground in an ungraceful heap right at Lily’s feet.

“About time,” Lily grumbled before holding out both hands before her. “ _Constitue claustra_ ,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. A green shield barrier glimmered around the six demon hunters.

Isabelle breathed a sigh of relief and let Siobhan rest on the ground before turning to the dazed Monica.

Monica accepted Isabelle’s hand and got to her feet. “Okay, I’m _liking_ being inside the force field a lot better,” she commented, watching several bursts of energy where their enemies collided with the magical wall.

Lily frowned. “Uh…guys?” she began hesitantly.

“What?” Monica shot her a concerned look.

“The shield’s wearing down,” Lily pointed out, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

Sure enough, another blow struck the green energy bubble surrounding them, and clear cracks could be seen radiating outwards from the site of impact.

“Make them visible,” Monica instructed Lily.

Lily shrugged and called upon the spell she’d used earlier during the fudge fiasco…and frowned once more. “Something’s blocking my spell.”

At that moment, the outline of a boot smashed into the shield, and the barrier shattered in a cascade of shimmering light.

“Fight!” Monica cried out in wide-eyed alarm, shifting into jaguar form instinctively.

Nicolas’ eyes yellowed, and at his first blow the claws that extended from his fingers raked deep into one of the enemy. “I think it’s safe to say they’re after us now,” he commented before letting a low, menacing growl escape from his throat. He heard the panicked heartbeats around him back off and scatter at the new threat.

Isabelle sensed the temporary retreat as well. “I’m guessing they don’t like vamps,” she pointed out, standing guard over Lily.

“No,” Lily agreed with a frown, “but they were certainly ready to deal with me this time around.”

In the meantime, Monica had tackled one of their foes to the ground, her snapping feline teeth just inches from its throat. “We need magic _now_!” she announced, worried.

Lily nodded and summoned up the green flare of energy within. “ _Nebula, exorire_ ,” she commanded. Slowly, a swirling cloud of mist formed at her feet, spinning ever outward until in encircled the site of the battle in a light fog.

“This helps, _how_?” Pyotr demanded from where he’d retreated to the safest hiding spot – namely, right behind Nicolas.

The mist disturbed visibility beyond more than a dozen feet. However, the clear outlines of their attackers could be seen as voids within the fog. The effect blurred as the enemy fighters drew nearer, of course.

“It was the best I could come up with!” Lily snapped, her head aching from all the magic she’d done that day. “If you’ve got anything better, why don’t _you_ try it?”

Pyotr gave her an offended look and then let out an undignified squeak when Nicolas tackled one of the enemy mere inches before he would have tackled Pyotr onto the ground.

A swift bat of Monica’s paw and her own captive was down for the count. “It’ll do,” she reassured Lily, taking down two more with her next leap.

“I hate to break it to everyone,” Nicolas spoke up hesitantly just after snarling at three of the men who had dared approach. Despite being invisible, they all back off nervously. “But we’re being slowly outnumbered…”

Monica looked up with feral eyes to see that the mist was now nearly filled with transparent forms. “Shit,” she swore eloquently. “Lily, can you teleport us?”

Lily moaned and clutched at her head, supporting Siobhan’s unconscious body against her shoulder while Isabelle defended them both. “Not a chance.”

“Pyotr?” Monica asked hopefully.

“Um, no…”

“Double shit.” She turned so that she, Nicolas, and Isabelle formed a protective circle around the other three. “Nicky?”

“I’m calling for back-up,” he agreed, activating his communicator. “Emergency,” he said urgently into the receiver. “Beta Team needs an evacuation now.”

“Dawn sick,” Krullek, the Fyarl in charge of communications, informed him.

“ _Emergency_ ,” Nicolas stressed.

Around the team, a wall of invisible figures was slowly moving through the mist, closing in.

“What the hell do you people want?” Isabelle demanded, annoyed and frustrated.

Her question was met with eerie silence.

“We’re going to have a bit of a problem soon,” Pyotr pointed out.

“If you don’t have any suggestions, then be quiet and let the rest of us work!” Monica snapped, fed up with the man.

Pyotr’s eyes narrowed in her direction, but he didn’t comment.

“Oh, this is going to be fun…” Isabelle bit her lip nervously as the army against them closed in as one.

And then, a light blue shimmer surrounded the members of Beta Team, and in another instant they had vanished…

* * *

 _Prey gone, escaped, fled…_

 _But closer this time. So close…_

 _Crush, rip, tear, destroy…_

And, as one, the invisible soldiers vanished back into thin air, leaving only a lonely cloud of mist behind…

* * *

Aida breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed at the back of her neck when the six demon hunters materialized in the center of the circle she, Willow, and their favorite Familiar had set up. Willow smiled weakly at her from around the rescuees, also feeling weary from the power of the spell they’d cast on such short notice.

“We are _so_ grateful for the save,” Monica offered, standing up from where she’d fallen to the floor of the new temple after transport and assessing the situation. “Dawn’s really out?”

“Nasty fever,” Willow provided, rising to her feet. “Can’t aim her transports worth a damn.”

Monica went over to where Siobhan was just now stirring. “You all right?”

The half- _sidhe_ nodded wearily and managed to get to her feet with Nicolas’ help.

“Lily!” Aida was exclaiming in horror. “What ever did you try to do?”

Lily brought her hand up to her face to find that her nose was bleeding from the force of the magical energy she’d expended. “Two battles in one day with no rest,” she groaned, reaching for a tissue.

Willow was already at the communication console, calling in medical assistance.  “Our endurance training is a bit off?” she suggested.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Yes, mother,” she said in as sullen a chided child voice as she could manage.

Willow and Aida both grinned at that and rolled their eyes at the memory of Lily’s teenage years.

“Well, that was a disaster,” Isabelle decided, plopping down in one of the armchairs that circled the room.

Monica wearily rubbed her eyes. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that wasn’t just some cult that picked up a handy invisibility spell.”

“More like an army,” Nicolas agreed.

“A clever one as well,” Monica decided. “They knew to knock Siobhan out before she could phase this time, and they had perfect countermeasures for all the spells Lily used previously.”

“Which, hopefully, should save me at least some energy in the future,” Lily provided, sitting dizzily in the chair beside Monica and still holding a tissue to her nose.

“And it would have been nice,” Monica’s tone turned hard, “to have a bit of offensive magic.” She looked pointedly at Pyotr. “What happened out there?” she demanded.

“Well, what did you want me to do?” he retorted disinterestedly.

“Maybe try fighting?” Isabelle suggested sarcastically.

He looked down his nose at her, which was quite an accomplishment given that she was almost a whole head taller than he was.

Monica shot Isabelle a warning look before returning her attention to Pyotr. “I expect all members of my squad to be able to hold their own in battle,” she informed him firmly. “If you don’t think you can handle that, then perhaps you should transfer elsewhere.”

He grumbled under his breath but didn’t respond.

“But right now our concern has to be our invisible friends,” Monica turned to address the group at large. “Because, whether we like it or not, they seem to be after us now…”


	5. Chapter 5

*Punch* “Back so,” *kick*, “soon?” *Punch, punch* “Jesus,” *kick*, “what happened to your,” *kick, punch*, “eye?”

Isabelle watched Alex’s final punch send swinging the lead-weighted punching bag that all SCBI agents with super strength used, a singularly unimpressed expression on her face. “Your concern for me is touching,” she said sarcastically. “Really.”

He sent a scowl her way, and his next kick wrenched the punching bag so that it swung wildly on its chain, dangerously close to crashing into the computer terminal on his desk. “Asked about the black eye, didn’t I?” he shot back.

An amused smile crossed Isabelle’s face as she sat on the corner of the bed and watched the gorgeous wonder that was Alex sweaty and shirtless. “Invisible assholes again,” she provided. “We got our asses kicked _twice_ in one day.”

“Ah, the joys of fieldwork,” Alex said nostalgically, wiping the sweat from his brow and pulling off the blue bandana he’d used to keep his damp hair off his forehead while he worked out. He picked up the water bottle from the desk and drank deep. “Any word on what these things are yet?”

Isabelle watched, half mesmerized, as the excess water from the bottle dripped down over his handsome features, down the salty column of his throat, to his well-muscled chest and… “Huh?” she started to at his question. “Oh. Human. Won’t talk. _Serious_ nasty magical defenses. Pack a mean punch. Inter-dimensional portal,” she summarized quickly and succinctly.

“Portal?” Alex asked curiously. “Where to?”

“We couldn’t tell,” Isabelle said absentmindedly, watching him retreat into the bathroom and turn on the shower. “It was password protected or something.”

Alex’s head peeked out of the bathroom. “Are the Witches working on cracking it?” he demanded before retreating once more.

Isabelle could hear the sound of the curtain opening and closing, following by the spray of cold water on warm, human flesh. She lay back on the bed, closed her eyes, and pictured the absolutely _marvelous_ image of Alex naked and wet. “Yeah,” she shouted back, “but the area’s crawling with invisible thugs. We’ve gotta get a defense first.”

“How about a fence?” Alex suggested, shouting over the water.

Isabelle blinked. “Not a bad idea,” she agreed. “I’ll advise Monica if nothing else turns up.”

“And then you’ll want to call up all our inter-dimensional contacts and see how far spread this pattern is,” Alex continued to call out, rinsing the soap from his hair. “Fletcher’ll do it, but he’s got a lot more important stuff to deal with, so if you want the information fast, someone in the squad has to make the calls themselves. And then you’re going to want to test detection methods, and you’ll need someone watching the interrogation in case anything breaks there, and—”

“Alex?” The water shut off at her exclamation.

“Yeah?”

“You’re not in charge of the squad anymore,” Isabelle felt obliged to remind him.

He emerged from the bathrobe in a huff, only a white towel tied around his waist. “I’m perfectly well aware of that,” he grumbled under his breath.

Isabelle watched the delicious treat of Alex – wet, wearing only a towel, and with his wet hair combed back – as he rifled through his dresser drawers for some jeans. “And Monica _does_ know what she’s doing,” she pointed out. “If she needed your help, she’d ask for it.”

Alex shrugged and vanished back into the bathroom to get dressed. “I’m sure she does,” he agreed with a weary sigh.

Isabelle bit her lower lip. It was clear what Alex’s problem was. He’d been cooped up in this room for months now, and it was obviously grating on his already short-tempered nerves. “I think Fletcher’s lightening up on letting you leave the mansion,” Isabelle provided hopefully. “While supervised, of course…”

Alex snorted. He’d managed to finagle his way out of his room on nearly a dozen occasions so far, but always with Big Brother – usually in the, admittedly lovely, form of Isabelle – breathing down his neck. “Great,” he agreed unenthusiastically.

“The word ‘probation’s come up as well,” Isabelle added.

He emerged from the bathroom fully dressed, his expression a bit more hopeful. “God, I’m sick of this room,” he said with a sigh, collapsing onto the mattress beside her.

Isabelle rolled over onto her side so that she was facing him. “Good, because we _so_ need you back. You wouldn’t _believe_ the asshole they’ve got to replace you.”

“He can’t be _that_ bad,” Alex insisted with a little smile at the woman beside him.

“You have no idea…” Isabelle said with a roll of her eyes.

* * *

Lily’s expression brightened when her little group entered the training room to find Xeris lifting weights in the far corner. “Oh good,” she turned to Pyotr, “you can meet the final member of our team. He can show you the ropes and everything.” Siobhan had entered with the pair of them as well, of course, but the fact that she and Pyotr couldn’t communicate limited her effectiveness as a tour guide.

Xeris rose to his full eight feet and turned to the sparring rooms just as they approached.

“Xeris!” Lily’s shout got him right before he would have vanished into the arena.

“Lily,” he nodded politely to her. “Siobhan.”

“I’d like to introduce you,” Lily began, pushing Pyotr’s slight form forward, “to our newest teammate. Pyotr Adrikovich, Xeris. And vice versa.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” Xeris extended a giant clawed hand in an awkward imitation of the human gesture.

Pyotr’s response seemed no less awkward, although he didn’t seem put off by the large demon in the slightest. To Lily’s mind, it was the only point Pyotr had in his favor so far.

“Xeris is on sick-leave,” Lily provided, “so he can run you through the system here. Okay?”

Xeris nodded solemnly.

“Great,” Lily said with a weary smile. “Now, I’ll just be off and—”

“You’re leaving?” Pyotr cut her off with a whine of protest.

A curious expression crossed Xeris’ face at the other man’s reaction.

Siobhan merely rolled her eyes and signed, _“He whines about everything.”_

“Well, my magic’s burned out so I can’t train,” Lily replied matter-of-factly, “and if I don’t get to sleep soon, I’m gonna pass out right in the middle of the floor.”

Siobhan gave her a sympathetic smile. _“Go to sleep. We will watch after the irritating one.”_

Lily couldn’t help but shake her head at how Siobhan was taking advantage of sign language to say the things about Pyotr that everyone else was thinking. “Right, so later!” With a little finger wave, she was off.

“Well, that was certainly rude,” Pyotr huffed, arms crossed over his chest.

Siobhan fought the urge to scream at him. Full coma-inducing scream.

“She must rest to be of use to the team,” Xeris said simply. “It is not rude. It is a warrior’s prerogative.”

Pyotr cast Xeris a skeptical glance. “Oh, _you’re_ a fun one, I can already tell,” he complained.

“If you consider training to be fun,” Xeris agreed, completely missing the sarcasm. “Perhaps we should spar. What are your abilities?”

“Uh…you’re about four times my size,” Pyotr objected. “I’m not fighting you.”

“We often face demons even larger than myself in the field,” Xeris countered logically.

“Bully to you,” Pyotr commented, arms crossed over his chest defensively.

Siobhan rolled her eye. _“I will spar with you,”_ she offered to Xeris.

He nodded and followed her into the small arena. “You may observe,” he informed Pyotr.

“Yeah, whatever you say, Chuckles,” Pyotr agreed in a bored drawl.

Xeris frowned for a second. “My name was Xeris,” he corrected.

“Yeah, sure,” Pyotr mumbled, reluctantly following the pair into the arena…

* * *

“Oh god, I suck,” Monica moaned, flopping back on the couch in the sitting room with a weary sigh.

“You don’t suck,” Nicolas assured. “Well, except for—”

“Finish that sentence and die,” she informed him with a scowl.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he insisted with mock innocence.

She shot him a suspicious look before returning to her well-earned self-pity time. “Alex _never_ blew it so badly,” she reminded him. “In all the years I’ve worked here, not once did he call in for an emergency retrieval.”

“And _he_ never had to face those invisible bastards,” Nicolas countered. “If he had, maybe he wouldn’t’ve done any better.”

“ _Anyone_ would’ve done better,” Monica said in despair. “We get backed into a tough corner and what do I do? ‘Lily, quick, come up with some magic.’”

“We’re still alive, aren’t we?” Nicolas pointed out. “You must be doing something right.”

“Yeah, I’m good with the fleeing in defeat,” she agreed bitterly.

“Not just that,” Nicolas said with a frown. “You won the first battle—”

“After Lily’s magic saved the day,” Monica cut in.

“—And you couldn’t possibly have known they’d adapt to magic that quickly,” he concluded resolutely.

“We’re a team of skilled fighters, Nick,” she said seriously. “Alex never had to rely this heavily on Lily’s magic.” She sighed. “God, I burned out our only witch on the first day of our first real assignment…” She groaned.

“It’s your _job_ to use all the resources at your disposal in the way you best see fit.” Seeing that this was the sort of gloom that wouldn’t be cured just with words, Nicolas picked up her feet and sat on the couch, taking them into his lap.

“What’re you…?” Monica began curiously, looking at him. Her eyes widened in delighted realization, though, when he started massaging her feet.

“And Lily’s not complaining that you’re putting her powers to good use,” Nicolas continued, kneading the tanned toes in his lap in turn.

“Yeah, I seriously owe Lily for keeping us intact,” Monica agreed. “You think I could get her a raise?”

“Witches are already overpaid as it is,” he teased.

Monica laughed at that before closing her eyes with a sigh. “God, this is so much more work,” she moaned. “How did Alex ever manage to find time for it all?”

“Maybe you should ask him,” Nicolas suggested.

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because the answer’s going to be ‘I didn’t suck’,” Monica concluded.

“You’re taking this all too hard,” Nicolas insisted with some exasperation.

Monica let out a long, slow breath. “I know,” she agreed, closing her eyes and savoring the feel of his hands on her feet. She knew his flesh was naturally cool, but somehow he managed to always keep his hands human body temperature. It was a perk she was definitely enjoying at the moment. “I’m just not used to having all this responsibility solely on my shoulders.”

“You’re doing an _amazing_ job of it, though,” he assured her, his voice turning to a breathless whisper as he abandoned her feet and nudged her slightly so that he could lie behind her, spooned up against her back.

“Everyone doesn’t think so,” she countered. “I know what they’re all saying, that I’ve only been here a few years and there are those that have been training all their lives for squad leader positions.”

“Our team’s got its own internal workings,” Nicolas insisted. “We needed someone from the inside who understands everyone’s abilities.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m woefully inexperienced.”

“Maybe at leading,” Nicolas conceded, “but you know the squad, and that’s just as important.”

A slow nod. “I just wish…”

“What?” Nicolas inquired curiously.

A sigh. “Sometimes I just wish that I could run away from it all,” she admitted.

A soft smile and a kiss to the back of her neck. “We all wish that from time to time,” he agreed. “But Fletcher said you were ‘highly adequate’ for the job, and Alex even grunted approval at your appointment.”

A little giggle escaped Monica at that. “Well, with effusive praise like that, how can I deny that I’m the woman for the job?” she said, finally allowing herself to fully relax into the cold embrace of her lover…

* * *

“—Just a few small seismic disturbances so far, some more demon fights than usual, but nothing too out of the ordinary.”

Fletcher frowned at the image of the brunette vampire on his video monitor. “The Hellmouth is shifting?” he inquired pointedly.

“There’s no evidence of that,” Damien, Master of the Columbus clan, insisted.

“I’ve heard some interesting reports from your area,” Fletcher commented coolly, his demeanor giving off nothing.

A nervous look glinted through Damien’s eyes, but other than that he remained composed as well. “Oh?”

“Five human deaths in the last month,” Fletcher elaborated, “all of them under violent circumstances.”

“I don’t see how that’s my concern,” Damien insisted defensively.

“No vampires in your clan have gotten…over-exuberant lately?” Fletcher suggested.

Damien’s eyes narrowed at the accusation. “If it was someone in my clan, I’d know about it,” he insisted with a little growl.

“Outsiders then, perhaps?” Fletcher inquired.

“I can’t control every demon who comes into town,” Damien insisted with a snort. “Columbus is clearly posted as a Safe Zone.”

“So you haven’t been keeping an eye on newcomers, then?” Fletcher asked suspiciously.

An angry hint of gold flashed in Damien’s eyes. “I watch the Hellmouth,” he responded simply. “According to our agreement, that is _all_ that I’m required to do for you.”

“Of course,” Fletcher agreed magnanimously, “but I figured given Delilah’s threat to move the Hellmouth back to Cleveland—”

“Is that bitch behind this?” Damien demanded with an angry growl.

A small smile crossed Fletcher’s face. “I really couldn’t say without in depth reports on local demon activity.”

Damien debated this for a while before relinquishing a bit of his knowledge. “It was one of my old exes and a few of his childer,” he admitted reluctantly. “They got out of hand, and we booted them out.”

“And the Hellmouth?” Fletcher asked again.

“Just a little rumbling,” Damien reaffirmed his earlier statement. “Nothing too out of the ordinary.”

“Really,” Fletcher was pondering the curious possibilities now. “We have been getting hints that something large is about to happen on an inter-dimensional scale,” he provided for the vamp. “Quite a lot of portal activity and such. And the Hellmouth hasn’t responded, you say?”

Damien frowned at that. Inter-dimensional events usually did coincide with increased Hellmouth activity, and the last thing he needed was an apocalypse to overthrow the power base he’d built around the sealed gateway. “Not that I… Well, unless…” he hesitated, a recent odd incident popping to mind.

“What was that?” Fletcher inquired curiously.

“It was… Well, there are just so many pilgrimages to the Hellmouth that it didn’t seem significant,” Damien began, unsure.

“What happened?” Fletcher was rapidly losing patience for negotiating with the vamp.

“He slipped past our guards somehow. My favorite Childe found him right before the Mouth… He didn’t do anything, of course, just sat for a minute like all the rest of the pilgrims.”

“And this one stood out?” Fletcher pressed.

“He _did_ vanish through an inter-dimensional portal,” Damien agreed. “That was what brought it to mind. But the most unusual thing…”

“Yes?”

“Well, he was _human_.”

This startling revelation was perfectly timed with a loud buzz and Krullek’s image taking over the screen.

“Bugger!” Fletcher swore. “This had better damned well be important,” he chided the Fyarl. “We’ve got intruders at the Hellmouth and—”

“Cain on line three,” Krullek said simply.

Fletcher froze mid-tirade. “Pardon?”

“Cain on three,” Krullek repeated. “Important. You not talk, he mad.”

Shaken slightly, Fletcher nodded. “Y-Yes, of course. Put Cain on immediately, and inform Damien that I’ll call him back.”

Krullek nodded and switched the channel, and the image of a handsome, dark-haired man with several days’ stubble appeared on the screen.

“Fletcher, my boy, you never call, you never write…” Cain began in a bored drawl.

“What do you want?” Fletcher demanded nervously, carefully watching the expressions of the man upon whom their precarious house of cards was built…

* * *

Doctor Maddie Carmichael was not easily surprised. Having lived over half her life as a Slayer, her reflexes had become lightning-quick. Years as a physician had prepared her for every sort of emergency imaginable, and she’d seen the best and worst of dozens upon dozens of rare and exotic demon species.

However, when she checked on the monitor of her T’Liff patient’s life-signs and saw a steady state of unconsciousness, even she jumped and squealed when a clawed hand suddenly reached over to grab her arm.

“Where am I?” Girath demanded in Standard Demonic, eyes still drowsy from the painkillers he’d been put on.

“You’re in a hospital,” Maddie assured him. “You were badly injured.”

Girath sniffed the air. “Danger…” He pulled away from her slightly in alarm.

Maddie sighed. It was nice to know the Slayer myth pervaded dimensional barriers. “I’m a Slayer,” she agreed, “but I’m not going to hurt you. I’m your doctor.”

Girath seemed to accept this at face value and nodded wearily. “After me…” he began, settling down on the hospital bed once more.

“We’ll protect you,” Maddie assured him, watching with amazement at how his conscious life-signs were virtually identical to his unconscious ones. “Nurse?” she turned to the petite Vraha behind her. “Call Fletcher, will you, and tell him that our guest is awake…”


	6. Chapter 6

Willow Rosenberg bit her lower lip in a gesture indicative of her youth and worried it between her teeth. Before her, a swirl of green energy rose up, circling around ever inward until it surrounded the locked portal. Willow held her breath in anticipation and then let out a groan when the energy dissipated into nothing. With a weary shake of her head, she returned to the notes in front of her in order to attempt her next spell.

 _“Still having no success?”_ Siobhan’s telepathic voice inquired. She was stationed just outside the wire fence that now blocked off all outside access to the portal, her ability to pass through the barricade easily making her ideal for this assignment. The fact that the dozen or so witches working on the project had set up a telepathic network made communication simple and fluid.

Willow shook her head. _“All portals respond differently depending on how they were originally opened,”_ she thought back, already beginning to recite another spell from memory.

Siobhan turned her attention to the three middle-aged witches sitting off on the far side of the enclosure in the shade of an old oak tree. Their own spell reached a cadence, and a flash of white light glimmered around the portal for a minute before it failed as well.

Siobhan sighed silently and turned her attention back to Willow. _“Direct assaults do not seem to be working well,”_ she offered.

Willow nodded. _“Doesn’t hurt to be thorough, though. Personally, I’m betting the lock will be easier to pick than break…”_

Siobhan phased through the fence so that she was on the inside once more and sat down to rest in the grass. Willow’s mind had closed off temporarily as she tried to trick the portal into revealing its secrets, and a blue light almost seemed to shine from within her.

After only a few minutes, though, Willow dispelled the energy with a shake of her head. _“Our gate is a fickle mistress,”_ she teased.

Siobhan smiled at that as well. _“You have been at it for less than a day,”_ she pointed out reasonably enough.

Willow put on the mock-pout that never failed to look humorous on a woman of her age. _“Impatience, thy name is Willow,”_ she joked.

One of the latest apprentices laughed at that and offered Willow a bottle of water from the cooler they’d brought. It was one of those spring days that felt more like summer, and the energy the witches were expending could easily leave them dehydrated if they weren’t careful.

 _“Any signs of our invisible enemies?”_ Willow inquired as she took a sip.

Siobhan shook her head. _“I think you’ve scared them off.”_

 _“Either that, or they don’t like the heat any more than we do.”_ That comment came from part of the circle beneath the tree. Another spell rose between the three of them, and this time a lightning-bolt struck the gateway. Still nothing.

Willow frowned at the problem. _“Force isn’t working. Why don’t you try tracing a history of spells in the area and try unraveling the original source spell that locked the portal?”_

The witches in the circle began flipping through books instantly, several of the younger magic casters settling down around them to help with the research.

 _“Which means I’m back to magically hacking the password,”_ Willow decided with a gleeful grin at the problem before her. She turned her attention back to Siobhan. _“We’ll crack this if it kills us.”_

The half-sidhe merely smiled and returned to her sentry duty.

* * *

“Well, isn’t this fun?” Nicolas downed the last of his coffee in one large gulp, keeping his eyes on the proceedings in the interrogation room all the while.

Xeris nodded solemnly, while Monica yawned.

“Have we tried UV yet?” Lily inquired, adjusting the settings on the video display. The screen filled with a blue light, but their captor remained as invisible as ever.

“I think we tried that first,” Nicolas commented just a second too late.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t work,” Lily provided with a shrug.

Monica consulted the chart before her. “Nope, Infrared was first. UV was…” She flipped through the pages.

“Fifth,” Xeris provided from memory.

Monica turned to the appropriate page. “Fifth, indeed,” she agreed. “It didn’t work last time, either.”

Lily sat down with a huff. “They can obviously see each other,” she began. “They orchestrated an organized attack against us, complete with reserves. And they never once managed to crash into each other.”

“Hence, they can see each other,” Nicolas agreed. “But how? He’s not wearing any eyewear…”

“Which returns us to the conclusion that it is magic of some sort,” Xeris finished the logical train of thought.

Lily groaned. “Which means we’re back to trying magical filters.” She clicked a combination of buttons. “Well, it’s not the spell trace from a flare spell…”

Monica jotted down the note. “Next?”

“Well, I’ve tried all the usual elemental type spells,” Lily bit her lip. “What if…?” She clicked several buttons.

The image on the monitor wavered for a minute, transforming into a random array of black, white, and gray pixels. And then, slowly, shapes became distinct within the interrogation room. The technician who was trying to question their captive appeared in stark white, while a gray shimmer shone around the edges of his outline.

It was the second figure who was truly remarkable, however. The four members of Beta Team leaned in toward the monitor in surprise when their hitherto invisible guest suddenly became visible as an outline of chaotic black pixels.

“You’ve got him!” Monica exclaimed in delight. “What did you do?”

Lily was still blinked in surprise at the black void that encompassed their captive. “I-It’s a potentiality filter,” she answered, shaking her head. “A locator of what should exist in our quantum reality.”

“And you tried this after flare?” Nicolas couldn’t help but comment sarcastically.

Lily sent the requisite dirty look in his direction. “I started running through magical traces from other dimensions,” she explained. “This one was… Just discovered last week, it looks like,” she said, scanning through the report on the monitor before her. “Prague’s Alpha Team found an old dimensional hub and stumbled across Dimension,” she squinted at the screen, “D-137. It was completely empty of all intelligent life, although the animal life appeared demonic, and it held the same characteristic magical signature as this filter.” She tapped the video monitor before her.

Monica frowned. “That’s…odd,” she commented. “Why would an unpopulated dimension be on a hub?”

“And if it is unpopulated, how did the magical traces come to be there?” Xeris inquired.

Nicolas just shrugged.

Lily continued scanning through the report. “They didn’t stick around long,” she said with a sigh. “They were on the tail of two Vreezi smugglers, so investigation wasn’t a priority.”

“Looks like we’ll have to go back,” Monica concluded. “They did leave directions, right?”

“Yup,” Lily pointed to the screen proudly.

“Good. I’ll go clear the trip with Fletcher,” Monica concluded. “Xeris, you’re still stuck here until you can do field work.”

The Velik Demon nodded glumly.

“And Siobhan’s off on assignment…” Monica continued to plan. “But, given that the dimension’s uninhabited, it should be safe to go with just a squad of four. Lily, any news on whether this dimension’s vampire safe?”

“It’s good,” Lily nodded. “Two vamps in the team had no trouble with the sun’s rays.”

“Good,” Monica let out a sigh of relief that she didn’t have to resort to bringing Pyotr. “Lily, have that report memorized by the time we’re ready to go. Nicky, go tell Isabelle what’s happening. We’ll need her.”

“Don’t call me ‘Nicky’,” Nicolas said out of habit.

Monica kicked him gently under the table.

“And I should…?” Xeris asked hopefully.

“See if we can’t get some kind of eyewear made so that we see our invisible enemies,” Monica concluded, tapping the gray bespeckled monitor with one red-pained nail. “And get better so you can requalify for the field.”

Xeris nodded and rose from the bench he was seated upon to his full eight feet.

“Well, let’s go,” Monica instructed, excited that she _finally_ had a lead to work off of…

* * *

“Girath,” Fletcher began, leaning forward in the armchair he’d had brought into the medical wing and resting his head on the steeple formed where his hands pressed together. “That is your name?”

The T’Liff nodded sullenly, cold black eyes scrutinizing Fletcher intently. The light was much brighter here than it had been elsewhere in this dimension, but it was still a bit dim to him. “You are SCBI,” he said gruffly, responding in Standard Demonic as well.

“We are,” Fletcher agreed in a neutral tone.

“You meddle in T’Liff affairs,” Girath accused.

“I should think you’d be glad of that,” Fletcher countered. “Had we not meddled back at the mall, you would certainly have been taken captive.”

Girath didn’t know what to say to that and turned his attention to strange beeping machine beside him. When he finally spoke, his demeanor hadn’t lightened in the slightest, however. “I am not a captive now?” he countered. “SCBI has chosen to make itself an enemy of the T’Liff.”

“We respond to _all_ requests for help,” Fletcher shot back. “We are not enemies to the T’Liff; we are merely friends of the Veliks.”

“Same difference,” Girath countered stubbornly.

“A world of difference,” Fletcher countered. “We are quite willing to act as your allies in a manner that does not involve the subjugation of another demon race.”

“I am no ambassador,” Girath insisted.

Fletcher managed to crack a small smile at that. “I never would’ve guessed,” he commented, hiding all facetiousness from his tone. “But the individuals that attacked you have attacked our own people as well. If you were willing to provide us with information, we would gladly—”

“So the _phthick_ ’s are after you, too?” Girath grunted out a laugh.

The word was one that Fletcher didn’t recognize. “Is that what they are called, then?” he inquired curiously.

“That’s what _I_ call them,” Girath corrected.

Fletcher erased the note he had made. Obviously some demonic insult he wasn’t familiar with; there weren’t many. “And what _are_ they called?” he inquired pointedly.

“Thieves, mostly,” Girath said with a snort. “ _Humans_ like you.”

“I am aware of their species,” Fletcher agreed, “but I think even you’ll agree that they are unlike other humans.”

“Your kind smells like prey,” Girath agreed. “These are hunters…no, more like butchers. They call themselves The Guild.”

“Do you know why this ‘Guild’ was attacking you?” Fletcher inquired curiously.

“Thieves,” Girath repeated with a shrug. “What other motivation do they need?”

Fletcher frowned. “You have something of value?”

Girath was instantly suspicious once more. “The things that they value…” he began hesitantly, “are lives.”

Fletcher blinked at that. “What on earth do you—?” he began, but Girath’s eyes closed at that and the demon didn’t respond. “Maddie?” Fletcher demanded in exasperation.

Maddie merely scowled at him. “He’s still badly injured,” she insisted. “He needs his rest. You’re lucky to have gotten that much out of him. Now, perhaps it would be prudent to leave?” She flashed him a sweet/evil smile.

Fletcher knew better than to argue with any doctor, let alone one that was also a Slayer. “You will inform me if he is able to speak again?” he demanded.

“First thing,” Maddie agreed, swatting at him lightly with a medical report as she made her way over to her patient.

Fletcher let out an annoyed huff and stalked from the room.

Maddie just grinned.

However, Fletcher had barely made it back to the main hallway when he was assaulted by an over-enthusiastic were-jaguar.

“We’ve got a lead!” Monica declared proudly, stuffing a display pad under his nose. “There’s a magical trace that Prague found in Dimension D-137, and we need to investigate to see if it’s the end of the portal the witches are trying to open, and—”

“Yes, I can read, thank you,” Fletcher appraised her with his perpetually indifferent look. He sighed and looked at the display, only half paying attention to this matter. “Yes, it looks promising,” he agreed. “What did you need?”

“Permission for myself, Nicky, Lily, and Isabelle to go on inter-dimensional assignment,” Monica announced, handing Fletcher the approval form as well.

Fletcher frowned at that. “I’m afraid we can’t spare Isabelle at the moment,” he said, adjusting the form. “Take Pyotr instead.”

Monica flinched visibly. “I’d really prefer not to,” she began.

Fletcher looked at her in surprise. “Is he not working well with the squad?” he inquired, concerned.

“Not exactly,” Monica agreed. “All he’s managed to do so far is be a dead weight.”

Fletcher’s brow furrowed for a second before his expression suddenly cleared and he shook the thought off. “Siobhan is on assignment, and Isabelle has been reassigned. You have no other choice but to take Pyotr.”

Monica groaned at that but nodded. “Fine,” she agreed. “Can I at least hear why Isabelle’s being taken off the roster?”

Fletcher managed an apologetic smile. “That is a matter of strict confidence at the moment. You will be informed when her mission has been completed.”

Monica grimaced at that but didn’t question Fletcher. He was open enough with non-vital information that she trusted him that Isabelle’s mission was top secret. “Right,” Monica agreed. “We’ll leave this evening.”

“Good luck,” Fletcher agreed before returning to his office. After all, he had a mission to prepare…

* * *

“Well, I can certainly see why _this_ isn’t a tourist trap,” Pyotr said in bored manner.

Lily scanned the barren wasteland around them and couldn’t disagree with his assessment for once. “It looks like a desert,” she agreed.

“A really ugly gray desert,” Nicolas amended.

Monica sighed. “Okay, let’s try to get this assignment over with fast, shall we?” she recommended. “We’ll need to do some basic scans and surveys, see if we can find anything interesting or informative.”

“I think I see some rocks,” Pyotr retorted sarcastically. “Is that interesting or informative?”

Monica scowled at him. “Nick and I will head north,” she said, mounting one of the four hover-scooters they’d had the presence of mind to bring with them. “Lily and Pyotr, go south.” She mentally apologized to Lily for giving her the arduous assignment of having to work with Pyotr.

 _“I’ll live.”_ Even Lily’s telepathic assurance sounded weary.

“Let’s keep in regular touch with the communicators,” Monica went on, smiling inwardly at the comment. “Just in case something happens.” She looked around at the emptiness that stretched out in all directions. “Plus, we’ll get pretty bored otherwise.”

Lily nodded and reluctantly mounted the last of the four hover-scooters vacant; this wasn’t exactly her favorite mode of transportation. “You’re sure we can’t bring a plane?” she teased lightly, getting a little bark of laughter of Nicolas and a smile from Monica.

With a final smile, Lily took off. Pyotr followed only a few seconds later with a weary roll of his eyes.

Nicolas shook his head as he and Monica turned north, quickly speeding up to a brisk pace. “You don’t feel guilty about sticking Lily with Pyotr-duty?”

Ebony hair flying back in the wind, Monica laughed. “Hey, as squad leader I _so_ deserve a break from him,” she declared.

Nicolas shrugged and scanned the barren landscape. “You think this is a bust?” he asked realistically.

Monica bit her lower lip. “I hope not,” she countered, “because when we finally get through that portal, I don’t want to go in blind…”

* * *

Isabelle’s eyebrow quirked at the knock on the door.

Alex shot her a warning look before opening it to reveal a huge stack of papers and data pads. Unceremoniously, the heaping pile was dumped into his unwilling arms, and Fletcher strode into the room confidently.

“Uh…” Alex began hesitantly, dropping the files onto his bed before Isabelle. “What’s all this?”

Fletcher merely removed the handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his sweating brow. “I’m too old for this sort of thing,” he declared.

“You can’t make other people lug this stuff around for you?” Isabelle commented curiously, taking a bite out of the apple in her hand and flipping open the first folder. “What’s the fun of being in charge, then?”

Fletcher cast an annoyed look her way. “Those are not for your eyes,” he said pointedly, snatching the folder away from her, “and I can’t very well ask someone to carry all this if I wish for this mission to remain secret.”

“Mission?” Alex repeated, eyeing him critically.

“Parole starts now,” Fletcher agreed. “How would you two like to make a trip to Boston?”


	7. Chapter 7

“Can’t we go _home_ already?” Pyotr complained, slumping forward onto the handlebars of his hover-scooter as they passed by endless plains of gray sand.

Lily managed a small smile at that. “This is close to winning Most Boring Assignment Ever,” she agreed, “but it has to be done.”

“You mean, it gets _more_ boring than this?” Pyotr griped. “How do you humans survive it?”

Lily frowned at the odd comment and was about to ask about it when suddenly she spotted something off in the distance. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the pale speck far off on the horizon.

Pyotr turned to look and squinted his eyes. “Looks like a hill of some sort,” he commented. “Whatever it is, it’s large…”

“Whee, a change of scenery at last,” Lily joked wryly. “I’m calling it in.”

“Now the _mirages_ we see are worthy of being reported,” Pyotr sighed, but he nevertheless followed Lily in the direction of the object in the distance.

“Hey, Monica,” Lily said into her communicator, “we found something.”

“Really?” Monica’s voice sounded downright astonished over the speaker. “What is it?”

“Can’t tell yet,” Lily apologized. “It’s still far, but we’re headed for it.” She checked the display sensors on her hover-scooter. “Looks like it’s made out of metal, though…alloys.”

“Signs of life?” Nicolas pressed, joining in on the other end of the conversation.

“Maybe…” Lily sounded doubtful. “I’m not picking up any life-signs.”

“That thing _can’t_ be natural,” Pyotr insisted with a skeptical look at the formation in front of them.

As they had approached, the size of the structure became even more impressive. It had widened out until it was almost the entire length of the horizon, although its height was comparatively small. Had it not been so long, they undoubtedly wouldn’t even have seen it from their original distance. From what they could see, the structure appeared to be one long, straight wall that stretched out almost as far as the eye could see. The alien sun beat down upon the wall, reflecting an unnatural silver color.

“It looks like a really long mirror…” Lily commented in awe. The structure was strange, to be sure, but there was also a sort of eerie beauty to it.

“Right.” At the other end of the transmission, Monica’s voice was starting to sound weary. “There’s nothing this way, so Nick and I will meet up with you at this thing you’ve found.”

“Sounds good,” Lily agreed, transmitting the instructions to her squad leader. She and Pyotr were now close enough that the structure towered above them, even though it wasn’t much taller than a standard three-story building. They came to a halt a dozen or so feet away from the massive silicon wall and shut off their engines. “What should we do in the meantime?”

“Find out whatever you can about it, but report back before trying anything unusual,” Monica instructed.

“I’ll lay off the spells,” Lily agreed. “Over and out.” She shut off the communicator before turning to Pyotr. The young man actually looked mildly impressed by the wall before them. “You ready?” she inquired.

“What are we doing?” he asked skeptically, still looking up at the massive metallic structure.

“Well, we could see the wall’s end,” Lily shrugged. “Why don’t we see what’s behind it?”

Pyotr sighed. “Reasonable enough, I suppose,” he agreed, back to his usual bored drawl. “Which way?”

“North,” Lily decided. “That way we’ll run into Monica and Nicky.”

She started up her engine once more and took a parallel course to the wall, Pyotr following behind her. They drove in almost complete silence, only the sounds of their scooters and the warm desert wind disturbing the still, alien environment. To their left, the silicon wall whizzed by, nothing in all the miles they traversed varying even in the slightest.

“This wall is perfect,” Lily breathed after about ten miles. “There’s not a flaw in the surface anywhere. The technology that could create this…”

“Is possibly not something you want to mess with?” Pyotr suggested wryly.

Lily gave him an annoyed look. “There’s no evidence that whoever made this is still here,” she countered before shivering slightly at the thought. “Although I guess being careful’s not such a bad idea…”

Pyotr shrugged disinterestedly and yawned. “Edge is coming up,” he pointed out unnecessarily.

“It’s about time,” Lily agreed with a grimace.

Pyotr gave her a surprised look, as if it never would have occurred to him that she might be bored, too. However, his mood soured again when they reached the corner. At a shallow angle, the wall merely continued to extend, appearing just as long as before.

Lily frowned. “What the hell is this thing?” she wondered, completely baffled.

“Dull?” Pyotr suggested.

“Fascinating,” she corrected with an annoyed look at her companion. “I wonder why it forms an angle here. In fact…” She got off her bike and pulled out a measuring implement.

Pyotr watched disinterestedly from the seat of his own scooter as she approached the wall and began to take measurements.

“According to this,” Lily gestured to the screen before her, “both these walls are exactly the same length – 35.8 miles, and the angle between them…” She nodded. “I thought so.”

“What?” Pyotr felt obliged to ask.

“Exactly 120 degrees,” Lily answered. “You know what this thing is?”

“A big, metal wall?” he retorted.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Not a wall,” she countered, “I’m willing to bet that if we kept following it around, we’d end up exactly where we started. Don’t you see? It has the perfect makings of an enormous hexagon.”

“So, someone took remedial geometry in this hellhole,” Pyotr shrugged.

“Or it’s a building,” Lily countered, “built off of a six-sided structure instead of a rectangle. Actually, given the size of it, I can’t help but wonder if it’s an entire city…”

“Yeah, well, it looks like a pretty well defended one,” Pyotr countered, looking up at the impenetrable fortress before them. A sound alerted him then, and he turned to see two clouds of dust approaching. “Your pals are here,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Lily rose from where she’d been inspecting the base of the wall and walked forward to meet Monica and Nicolas as they approached.

“Oh yeah,” Monica commented, hopping gracefully off of her scooter, “this is a hell of a lot more interesting than anything we found.”

“What the hell is it?” Nicolas agreed.

“A city, I think,” Lily provided. “Although we can’t be certain until we get inside.”

“And how exactly do you propose we do that?” Pyotr countered critically.

Lily merely returned to her previous place by the wall and crouched back down, fingers tapping at the structure. Monica and Nicolas knelt down beside her, examining whatever it was she had discovered. Pyotr, having long since grown weary of this entire exercise, leaned back against his hover-scooter and rested, eyes half closed.

“The surface is perfectly sheer,” Lily was explaining, “but I noticed that in some areas right by the base…”

“I see it,” Nicolas agreed.

“What?” Monica blinked blankly at the wall.

“The sun’s reflection is slightly darker,” Nicolas elaborated. “It forms sort of a dark rectangle.”

Monica cocked her head to one side and looked at the wall again. “Oh yeah. You think this is a door of some sort?”

“That was my thought,” Lily agreed. She continued to apply pressure all around the edge of the potential doorframe. Just as she reached the top left corner, a distinctive click sounded in the quiet of the desert, and slowly the panel slid aside.

Monica, Nicolas, and Lily all jerked back instinctively, while Pyotr reopened his eyes curiously. Before them all lay a black opening, a little under six feet wide and only two feet tall.

“If that’s a door, whatever made it must’ve been short and squat,” Monica commented.

“So,” Nicolas asked hesitantly, “do we go in?”

* * *

“We had no warning,” Girath managed to mumble out, still drowsy from the pain medications the nurses kept him on. “The Guild struck and we… As far as I know, no others escaped.”

Fletcher frowned and jotted down a note. “You were stationed at an outpost, you say?” he inquired. “What were your forces?”

Girath groaned. “Five-thousand T’Liff, and two-thousand Veliks working the mines.”

Fletcher’s eyebrow rose. “Not an insignificant force,” he commented.

Girath batted one clawed hand in the air dismissively. “It didn’t matter. We couldn’t even see them to fight them. They must’ve had powerful mages.”

Fletcher nodded. “How did you escape?” he inquired.

Girath let out a snorting laugh. “I didn’t. At first. They put us all to sleep – magic or gas, I don’t know – and when we awoke, we’d been taken to their labs…”

“This was in another dimension?” Fletcher interjected.

Girath nodded. “We didn’t know that at the time, of course. There were _millions_ of demons where they took us, of all sorts. I’d never seen most of them before, but they all had similar stories. Then, the Guild started taking us away, a few dozen at a time, and when those that had been taken were returned…” He shuddered from the tips of his claws all up the armored plates on his back. “They were emaciated, like they’d been hollowed out. They wouldn’t – or couldn’t – speak. They were walking dead, and I don’t mean like the undead you have in this dimension.”

“You do not know what exactly this Guild did, I suppose?” Fletcher said with a sigh.

“No clue,” Girath agreed, “and I have even less idea _why_ anyone would want to…” He trailed off.

“So, you escaped from these labs?” Fletcher prompted him.

Girath let out a gruff affirmative. “When they took us, we passed right by the gates. I was fortunate; they were admitting new captives, and I made a run for it. They were strong, though. I had not ever encountered any being as strong as the T’Liff, but these _humans_ nearly defeated me. Luckily, my will to escape was enough to break free. The portal was still open, and I rushed through. That was when your people found me. Had they not, I would have been recaptured.”

Fletcher frowned. “They were taking captives from _our_ dimension?” he demanded, concerned.

“I wasn’t paying much attention,” Girath stated disinterestedly, “but it appeared so.”

Fletcher sighed. “This is not good,” he decided. “Tell me, what more did you see of—?”

His question was cut off by a pointed cough. “You’ve been at it for an hour now,” Dr. Maddie Carmichael informed him pointedly. “Girath still needs his sleep to heal.”

A nod and Fletcher rose to his feet. “I will require more details later,” he explained.

Girath nodded wearily before settling back down to sleep.

Fletcher left the hospital wing with Maddie close on his heels. “The staff are beginning to become suspicious,” the Slayer informed him. “They’ve figured out that something’s happening in that room and that they’re not allowed to see it.”

Fletcher sighed wearily. “How long do you think it will before Girath is able to return to the T’Liff?”

“Two weeks?” Maddie guessed. “It’s hard for me to estimate his recovery time, given his physiology. And then we have to consider the possibility that this ‘Guild’, as he calls it, have attacked other T’Liff dimensions…”

“We can only hope not,” Fletcher agreed ruefully. “I don’t particularly fancy—” He broke off sharply in mid-syllable when he saw who was approaching.

Maddie saw Xeris approach them as well and remained silent on the matter.

A slightly confused expression marred the Velik’s brow, but he shook it off. “We have developed goggles that allow us to perceive the Guild,” he informed Fletcher matter-of-factly, an indigo taloned hand reaching out to show Fletcher the device.

“Excellent,” Fletcher agreed, taking the goggles from Xeris and turning them over in his hands. “You have tested them on our prisoners?”

Xeris nodded solemnly. “They are quite effective.”

“We’ll have them sent out to those working on the portal,” Fletcher agreed. “Was there anything else?” He looked pointedly at the data pad in Xeris’ hand.

The Velik Demon handed it over. “I have been physically cleared for duty,” he informed the former Watcher, looking almost straight down at the much shorter man. “I need only your signature to return to Beta Squad.”

Fletcher scrolled through the file and quickly added his signature to it. “With Isabelle otherwise occupied, Beta Team will need all the help it can get,” he agreed. “Station yourself at the portal until the rest of your squad returns from assignment.”

Xeris nodded, bowed politely to both Fletcher and Maddie, and hurried off on his assignment.

“Twelve percent of the agents stationed here are Veliks,” Maddie commented once Xeris was out of sight. “Just how long do you think it will take before one of them discovers we’re harboring a T’Liff in that room?”

“It will have to be long enough,” Fletcher insisted. “Take whatever security precautions you need, but Girath’s identity cannot be made public…”

* * *

“This wasn’t the sort of thing I signed on for,” Pyotr grumbled as he continued to crawl on his stomach through the otherworldly building, head ducked low to keep from hitting it on the low ceiling. “Remind me again why I’m doing this?”

“You’re the shortest and skinniest,” Monica retorted over the communicator. “The rest of us would have even a tighter fit.”

“Knew I should’ve made myself taller,” Pyotr grumbled to himself.

“What was that?” Monica asked.

“Nothing,” he retorted loudly enough for her to hear this time. “There’s another door ahead.” He aimed the portable camera he was pushing along before him in the direction of the latest door.

“We see it,” Lily assured him outside the city, looking at the viewing monitor before her.

Pyotr continued to crawl forward until he was right in front of the door. He fumbled around for the switch that opened it, and the panel slid back with a ‘whoosh!’ “I’m—Augh!” Pyotr screamed in abrupt alarm.

“What is that?” Monica asked in alarm at the image on the screen.

Still panting heavily from the sudden start, Pyotr shuddered. “Whatever it is, it’s dead.” He quickly shut the door before him again and took several deep breaths. “I’m _not_ going past that thing,” he insisted vehemently. “In fact, I’m getting out of this place…”

“Return to that central hall you found a while back,” Monica instructed. “I just want you to check that other door that you saw there, and then you can get out.”

Outside, in the spacious vastness of the desert, she, Nicolas, and Lily were studying the images that Pyotr was feeding them. In particular, the demonic corpse he’d just discovered. Lily had called up the images of the creature, and she and Nicolas were commenting on it quietly a few feet away.

Monica shuddered slightly. She couldn’t imagine she would be any more eager than Pyotr to continue after encountering that thing. The demon looked roughly like a giant sea star, dozens of tentacle-like appendages radiating outward from its central body. Three small eyes, now half rotted out, lined the top of each appendage, and its gray spiny skin looked cold with death. There was no doubt, however, that this was the sort of creature designed to live in a city like this. And the fact that the body had lain there long enough for decay to set in indicated all too clearly that the city was, indeed, abandoned.

“Which door was it?” Pyotr’s weary voice sounded over the communicator.

Monica turned back to the video monitor to find that he’d returned to the central chamber. “To your right,” she instructed.

With marked hesitation now, Pyotr approached the door and nervously opened it. No corpse lay before him this time, and his eyes widened in surprise. “This is more like it,” he commented, rising to his full height and discovering that this large room was just about six-feet tall. He picked up the camera in his hands and wandered around the large chamber, panning the camera so that the others could see. The coating on the floor of this room looked almost like earth straw, and Pyotr quickly found a surprisingly human-looking staircase spiraling against the far wall. “Shall I go up?” he inquired.

“Indeed,” Monica agreed. Nicolas and Lily surrounded her now as they watched Pyotr climb the first flight to find a room much like the one below, and then up to the third – and final – floor.

“It looks almost like some kind of barn,” Nicolas commented thoughtfully.

“I don’t care what it is as long as I can stand up,” Pyotr said, annoyed.

“See what those things near the floor are,” Monica instructed.

Pyotr approached one of the hexagonal metal panels and tapped it curiously. Instantly, a violet energy field sprung up beside him, locking off a portion of the room.

“A prison cell?” Lily guessed.

“About the right size,” Pyotr agreed. He tapped the panel again, and the energy field dissipated.

“Odd,” Monica commented, “why would these things make the cells so tall? They could fit three times as many captives in there if they kept the rooms the same height as all the others… Pyotr, run a bio scan.”

Irritated mumbling followed, and the camera rested on the ground while Pyotr pulled out his equipment. However, a bark of surprise escaped his lips at what he found. “There are still trace evidences of the prisoners held here,” he commented.

“Good,” Monica agreed, “run them through the database and—”

“No need,” Pyotr cut off. “The captives held here? According to this, they were human…”

* * *

If a flash of green light could look depressed, this one managed to. The light faded, and Xeris and an obviously sulking Dawn stepped forward into the SCBI encampment around the closed portal.

“Dawn,” Willow rose with a smile, “feeling better?”

“Fletcher determined that if I was well enough to set up a trip-portal outside his office that instantly diverted him to the basement, I must be well enough for fieldwork,” Dawn countered, pulling out a Kleenex and blowing her nose lightly. “What are we trying to do?”

Willow grinned at this latest step in the Drive Fletcher Crazy Campaign. “Closed portal. We’re trying to open it.”

Dawn cocked her head to one side and studied the doorway that was invisible to everyone else. “You want me to open up another one alongside it?” she inquired.

“That would be helpful,” Willow agreed with a sigh of relief.

Dawn closed her eyes for a second and frowned. “The other end comes out in a dimension that’s very hard to get to,” she murmured to herself. “Sheer dimensional walls…probably good for defense…” She was silent for a moment.

“Any luck?” Willow finally asked.

Dawn opened her eyes. “It’s too narrow a gap for me to open what with this portal taking up so much room,” she apologized, “but you can always open up this one.”

“I would if I had the password,” Willow grimaced.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Dawn countered. “It’s _fehlmarik_.”

Willow blinked as a glowing green gateway opened before them. “How the hell did you do that?” she demanded jealously.

Dawn just winked at her before approaching the opening. “The password was written on the other end.”

“Well, now at least I don’t have to feel stupid,” Willow agreed with a good-natured laugh. She turned to where Xeris – and all the other witches, for that matter – were watching the proceedings intently. “Tell Fletcher we’ve got the damn thing open,” she instructed. “He’ll want to get the rest of Beta Team down here right away. I think it’s time that we took this fight onto our enemy’s turf…”


	8. Chapter 8

Isabelle fidgeted uncomfortably as she and Alex stood in the sewer tunnels under Boston, waiting. Now, she’d been trained as a Slayer by the now defunct Watcher’s Council, and plenty of that training had involved trudging through smelly, filthy sewers. It was just a fact of life for the Slayer. _This_ sewer tunnel on the other hand…

There was no water, no dampness, for one. Of that much, she was grateful. The corridor didn’t have the same gritty, moldy feeling, either. In fact, the brick had been whitewashed so that it looked almost sterile enough to eat off of, and someone had gone to the careful effort of laying down a polished tile floor, large black octagons interspersed with deep maroon squares. It gave the place the feeling of a rather posh re-done basement.

It wigged Isabelle that this place was so obviously inhabited, however. In a Slayer’s experience, all underground or out of the way places were dangerous, especially if there were obvious signs that a demon had taken up residence there. And this place had every single sign imaginable. That, and her Slayer sense had started going crazy the instant they got within a ten-block radius of the building they were now beneath…

With a bored, impatient sigh, Alex sat down against one of the walls, checking his watch.

Isabelle glanced over at him skeptically. “We have to wait here, why?” she demanded for the umpteenth time.

“Cain hasn’t stayed ali—er, _undead_ this long by making foolish mistakes,” Alex countered gruffly, obviously annoyed by her constant questions. “Once everything’s clear—”

“We’re in a bloody _sewer_!” Isabelle exclaimed, just as irritated. “What could _possibly_ be here that—?”

Alex started suddenly, holding up one hand for silence.

Isabelle’s brow furrowed in confusion before she heard it as well: a slow grinding sound, like metal grinding against stone.

Alex sat up and rose to his feet just as the wall behind him began to move, sliding slowly aside to reveal a hidden doorway. He cast Isabelle a smug look over his shoulder. “Told you I knew what I was doing,” he taunted in a manner far beneath his years.

Isabelle just rolled her eyes. “Good for you. Now can we just get this over with? This place seriously creeps me out.”

Alex froze. “You remember what I told you?” he demanded.

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, stepping through the secret door, “no killing, no talking, and no second-guessing you…which, really, given the vast idiocy of half the things you do is _completely_ unfair.”

He scowled at her and followed her in. “Oh, like you’re one to talk, Miss Dive-Bombs Into A Nest Of Thirty Vampires With Only One Stake.”

“Spike told you about that?!” Isabelle exclaimed in outrage. “Why that little—” She froze in mid-rant as her Slayer sense suddenly went completely haywire, sending pulsing throbs of warning deep through her skull.

The immediate cause was the petite and beautifully exotic Japanese woman who stood before them, waiting for them to enter. One perfectly-sculpted eyebrow was raised at the antics of the two visitors, but she merely punched a code into the computer pad beside her, and the door closed behind them again.

Isabelle felt all her muscles tense as the woman – no, _vampire_ – approached, a deliberate predatory grace in her stride. “Alexander.” Her voice was softly accented, a hint of the orient buried beneath its soft tones.

“Kyoko,” Alex agreed, imitating her polite bow. “This is my associate, Isabelle.”

Kyoko nodded. “Welcome to our Haven.”

“Uh, yeah…thanks,” Isabelle agreed suspiciously.

 Kyoko turned back to Alex with wry amusement. “You brought a _Slayer_?” she inquired with a curve of her lips, leading the way to a small, silver elevator at the end of the hall.

“Fletcher’s sense of humor is growing more quirky with age,” Alex agreed, stepping into the elevator behind her.

Isabelle trailed slowly after the pair, feeling like she’d just missed something. Like, say, the entire plot of the movie.

The vampiress chuckled at that. “Heard he’s taken to keeping you under lock and key,” she added pointedly.

“Yeah, well, there are reasons behind _some_ of the things he does…” Alex conceded.

“Is she your jailer, then?” Kyoko inquired of Isabelle.

“More like his parole officer,” Isabelle countered, frowning when she saw Kyoko’s hand brush against Alex’s thigh.

The vampiress smirked. “You’ve got yourself a jealous one,” she commented. “Good thing all the Children of Arashmaharr are predisposed in your favor.”

“I don’t need wishes to seek vengeance,” Isabelle retorted pointedly. “And I’m not jealous.”

Alex cast her an annoyed look, not sure whether be offended by her vigorous denial or pissed because she was behaving in an oh-so-typically unladylike manner. “We’re not killing things, remember?” he said lightly.

Isabelle narrowed her eyes at him. “Jerk.”

“You wish.”

“Perv.”

“You _also_ wish.”

“Monica so told me about the time you tried to make a pass on your own cousin.”

“I hadn’t seen her in twelve years!” Alex protested defensively. “I didn’t know who she was!”

“Perv,” Isabelle repeated smugly now that she had him on the defensive.

Kyoko watched the entire exchange with curious interest. “You know,” she began with a droll smile, “I let the two of you in early because your constant bickering was driving me up the wall. I had thought that it might stop once you were no longer waiting.”

Alex snorted derisively. “ _Her_? Stop? Not likely.”

“ _Me_?!” Isabelle retorted in disbelief.

Kyoko chuckled. “I like her,” she informed Alex. “She’s spunky.”

Isabelle’s eyes narrowed at the vampiress, but before some scathing reply could come to her, the elevator ‘ding’ed, and the doors open, exposing a huge, two-story room, furnished with plush blue carpets, numerous couches and tables and chairs, all artfully arranged, and…oh yeah, about fifty vampires in attendance.

Isabelle shivered slightly. She’d heard about clan headquarters before – locations where sometimes the entire vampire population of a city would live under one roof – but she’d never actually seen one before. The notion that, within this huge apartment building, virtually every vampire in a twenty-mile radius made their home was a little terrifying.

A large, warm hand came to rest in the crook of her back, offering her some slight comfort. She looked up in surprise at Alex – affectionate gestures weren’t common for him – but his attention remained on their guide, who had walked through the spacious common area to consult with a tall vampire standing before the door at the far end of the room.

Instinctively, Isabelle assessed the figure – a tall African man with a bodybuilder’s muscles and a wide scimitar at his waist. He looked like he had come straight out of a long ago era, which – given the perks of vampire immortality – was quite possible. Isabelle shuddered. Even she wasn’t inclined to take on this bodyguard. Not without back up, at least.

Kyoko returned to where they were waiting in the entrance hallway. “Cain will see you now,” she informed them, indicating that they follow her.

The hand at Isabelle’s back gave her a reassuring little push, and the pair of them ventured through the dozens of curious, resting vampires, Isabelle keeping her eyes firmly on the door ahead of them, her chin held high. She heard a couple whispered snatches of conversation, the word “Slayer” twice, and she was determined to uphold the mythology of her position as best she could.

“You’ll have them gossiping for months,” Alex whispered so softly that only she could hear it. “The undead are worse than housewives.”

Unbidden, a smile slipped upon her lips at that, and she let out an undignified giggle. She scowled at him for it, but his little joke had alleviated most of the tension in her body. It had become readily apparent by now that none of the vampires were going to attack her, and the persistent alarm of her Slayer senses began to relax so that it was no longer overwhelming.

The imposing bodyguard, looking like a raider straight out of the _Arabian Nights_ , held out one hand for them to stop at the door. “Weapons?” he demanded, looking pointedly at Isabelle.

“None,” Alex assured him. “We know the drill.” He nudged Isabelle slightly.

“No weapons here,” she agreed, managing a cheeky smile.

He nodded solemnly, looking for all the world like he’d come from the same bizarre demonic finishing school that Xeris had. Isabelle tried not to laugh at the image. “Enter, then,” he gestured to the now open doors behind him.

Alex and Isabelle stepped forward into the office within, and then the twin doors slammed behind them, leaving them in almost complete darkness…

* * *

“ _Fehlmarik_ , huh?” Monica asked curiously, standing before the portal Dawn had finally opened.

She could still feel the sand in her boots from their trip to what Lily had aptly referred to as ‘The Creepy Dead Starfish Dimension’, and she would’ve given just about anything to go back to the Old Library and take a nice long shower, sleep a couple of days, and enjoy some quality alone time with Nicolas.

In her line of work, that didn’t happen often, though. She almost missed the days when the squad had been pulled from the active duty roster now.

“It’s from the Bahridian demonic language group,” Willow provided helpfully. “At least, we think so. It means ‘freedom’.”

“Creative password for a portal that leads to a prison camp,” Nicolas commented wryly, eyeing the glowing opening with suspicion.

“Oh, the irony,” Pyotr said sarcastically, arms crossed defensively over his chest at the indignities he’d had to suffer crawling through the creepy starfish city. “Can we go home now?”

Monica’s jaw had begun to develop a twitch every time Pyotr said something like that. Right now she was _this_ close to clawing the man. “This is our assignment as well,” she hissed in a tight voice. “And this matter needs to be attended to at once.”

“Indeed,” Xeris agreed, adjusting the fit of Lily’s goggles so that they wouldn’t slip. He scanned the perimeter through his own goggles and spotted two fuzzy shapes in the tree line.

“We’re still be watched?” Monica asked warily.

Lily blinked through her own goggles now and found the two enemy spies. “Creepy,” she shivered slightly. “Have we tried to catch them?”

 _“They run,”_ came Siobhan’s telepathic reply. She handed one pair of readjusted goggles to Nicolas before turning her attentions to Pyotr.

“You’re sure this is a good idea?” he whined. “For all we know there’s an army on the other end of that portal.”

“Of humans,” Monica countered, feeling her Pyotr-induced headache pounding harder. “We’ve dealt with far worse.”

“Plus, we’ve got emergency beam up,” Lily joked. “Right Aunt Dawn?”

Dawn sniffled and blew her nose. “Right. But I can’t guarantee you won’t catch my flu in the process.”

“A dangerous risk.” The words were said in Xeris’ perpetual serious tone, and caused quite a few blinks and Siobhan’s private telepathic query to Lily, _“Was that a joke?”_ Lily just shook her head as baffled as everyone else. Xeris seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he’d just stunned them all mute. “Are we prepared?” he inquired, checking the power on his laser rifle.

Monica shook her surprise off. “Ready?” she demanded of the squad.

Four affirmatives, and Pyotr’s reluctant groan.

Monica took a deep breath and pulled her own goggles down over her eyes, taking a moment to adjust to the skewed perspective. “Let’s go, then,” she ordered, gesturing for Nicolas to lead the way. She watched her five teammates proceed her inside before giving Willow and Dawn one last smile. “Wish us luck,” she said before stepping through the portal herself…

* * *

“Something to drink?”

Isabelle’s eyes adjusted to the dark of the office quickly, and she could clearly make out the face of their host through the filtered light that came in through the curtains. Cain was a tall man, she noted, as he and Alex clasped hands. Almost of a height with Alex. His hair shot up in chaotic black spikes, and his handsome, youthful face had a day’s worth of stubble on it. His shirt collar was unbuttoned, and he had a pair of simple blue jeans instead of the suit slacks she would have expected. And, oh yeah, he was hot. What was it about her and vampires, anyway?

Cain’s intense dark eyes settled upon her, and a predatory smile curled the edges of his lips. “Slayer…” he practically whispered.

She held out her hand, mesmerized by the inky depths of his eyes.

Rather than shake her hand, he brought it up to his lips, and the icy chill of his breath sent shivers down her spine.

Alex rolled his eyes. “You got any food around here?” he demanded.

Cain chuckled at that and released Isabelle from his thrall. “Of course, little devil,” he agreed in a pleasant baritone. “You don’t think I’ve forgotten?”

Alex smiled and collapsed into one of the leather armchairs before the desk, gesturing for Isabelle to take the other one.

Cheeks still flushed from her brief contact with the vampire, she sat herself down.

Cain settled behind the desk and nudged a fruit bowl over in Alex’s direction. “This kid nearly ate me out of house and home,” he teased lightly for Isabelle’s benefit.

Alex snatched up an apple and bit into it. “That’s what you get for offering a growing Vengeance Demon free food,” he countered with a grin. He cast Isabelle a sidelong look. “Eat something,” he advised.

She sighed, saw the order for what it was, and plucked out a banana.

Alex and Cain both chuckled, Alex mouthing ‘Slayers’.

“So, why don’t you introduce me to your pretty Slayer friend, and then we can get down to business?” Cain inquired casually, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the desk.

“Isabelle Navarro,” Alex gestured to the Slayer, “Cain, head of the Boston Clan of the Order of Aurelius.”

Isabelle merely raised one curious eyebrow. She could feel that this vampire was powerful, but given the lavish entrance they’d made she’d expected something a bit more…formal.

“My childer are all drama queens,” Cain joked in response to her unspoken thought, dark eyes fixed on her once more.

Isabelle squirmed slightly and looked away. Okay, so she was starting to discover a bit more power than she’d first registered…

“I was sorry to hear about Nina,” Cain said softly, turning his attention back to Alex. “And your mother…was a fine demon. Your father…” A reluctant smile. “I’ll miss him, too. But don’t tell anyone I said so.”

Alex managed a small smile at that. “I guess Fletcher’s decided that I’m to be ambassador to you in mom’s place,” he commented. “For the time being, at least.”

“Either that, or he’s figured out how on edge I am, so he sends the kid I know,” Cain countered with a smirk. “That, and he doesn’t have to use up anybody extra on his duty roster for this mission.”

Alex chuckled. “Fletcher’s smarter than everyone thinks,” he agreed.

“Not smarter than I think, I should hope,” Cain added. “So, tell me all about the Watcher’s Council…” He folded his hands together, sitting back to listen.

“Gone,” Alex said simply. “Permanently, we hope.”

“I followed Clifford Fitzpatrick’s trial,” Cain agreed. “From the shadows, of course.”

Alex frowned at him. “Bad joke.”

“Terrible.”

“And you want to know what guarantee you have that our alliance still holds, now that the need for emergency allies is gone?” Alex inquired.

“I wouldn’t want all seven of your Slayers running in here to do away with us,” Cain agreed.

“I’d be surprised to learn that you didn’t have a back-up plan for that eventually… But we have every inclination of holding up our end of the original bargain,” Alex insisted. “We’ll leave you in charge of your own clan, leave the patrolling of Boston to you, just so long as we think you’re keeping any demon problems in check.”

Cain sighed. “There are those with the Order who think now is the time to break off our agreement,” he commented matter-of-factly. “You’d think after a thirty-year ban on open hunting they’d have grown accustomed to our way of life, but…” He trailed off.

“You control the Order,” Alex said simply. “If you tell them to hold to the bargain…”

“They’ll try to assassinate me again,” Cain laughed, sounding as though he were genuinely amused by the prospect.

“Nothing’s changed,” Alex insisted. “Our agreement is about humans and demons trying to live together.”

Cain sighed. “I’ll want that promise sealed in blood,” he insisted.

“For your part, too,” Alex concurred.

“And I’ll need a report on your current operations,” Cain requested. “Just so I can see what we’re all up to.”

“I’m prepared to give you an overview,” Alex agreed. “I’ll want the latest figures on your population size and distribution as well.”

Cain chuckled and nodded. “For two allies that have gotten along rather well, we certainly keep close eye on each other.”

“How do you think we manage to get along so well?” Alex retorted, one eyebrow raised.

“Your mother taught you well, little devil,” Cain agreed with a wistful sigh. “It’s a deal.” He plucked up a long serrated blade from the desk before him and quickly sliced through his palm before handing the blade over to Alex.

Isabelle watched in morbid curiously as Alex cut himself as well and the two of them clasped hands. An eerie blue light swirled up from out of the blade beneath them, and when they broke apart, both cuts had completely healed.

“Now, how about we celebrate with—?” Cain’s offer was cut short when Kyoko and the tall bodyguard burst into the room, barricading the door behind them.

“We’re under attack,” Kyoko announced crisply, turning to report to Cain.

With a feline’s speed and grace, he was on his feet, opening up a hidden panel in the wall and removing two laser rifles. “Beatrix’s faction?” he demanded.

Kyoko shook her head. “Human. And invisible, too.”

Isabelle’s eyes widened at that. “Fuck,” she exclaimed, rising from her seat. Alex was only a second behind her.

“Enemies of yours?” Cain inquired curiously, pulling out additional weapons for the Slayer and Vengeance Demon.

“Nasty ones,” Isabelle agreed just as a loud bang sounded on the door, indicating that the intruders had arrived…


End file.
